Harder To Breathe
by justsomebrittanagleek
Summary: Santana is a 22 year old fire fighter, the love of her live walked out after five years, leaving her broken. Little does she know, her world's about change - AU.
1. one

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter One<strong>

It's not easy, opening yourself up and letting someone in. When you're young, you think you're invincible... That nothing can hurt you, and that you'll know instinctively the people that will. So you shy away from the suspected people, you keep your distance. But that's the funny thing about life; it has a way of biting you in the ass. The people you never expect, are always the ones to hurt you the most. They have a way of crushing your dreams and expectations, leaving you worthless and broken, wondering where it all went wrong. It's excruciatingly painful; it's the worst type of torture I can ever imagine. Splinters under finger and toe nails would be a walk in a park on a sunny day compared to this thing.

But in some ways I guess it's actually worse than torture, because it's not performed with any backing, there's no revenge or violence behind it, urging it on. It's completely accidental. It's not something that should be wished on anyone, no matter how much hate you have for them. Unfortunately, it's not something that you can switch off because you'll always end up loving them with every bit of your broken, pathetic, shattered heart. Each piece is a memory of the time I spent with them, whether it's a memory of a funny moment, an argument, or a weekend that you spent in huddled up under a duvet on the sofa watching movies with them.

Things change, people change. The memories that were made between two people become bitter lies and painful thoughts. Nothing is ever set in stone, no matter how much we want them to be. And because of that, people end up getting hurt, hearts get shattered and promises are broken. There's no booklet that comes with life; telling you how to live it and what you should and shouldn't do. As much as we'd like to believe that there are things in life that are plain black and white, everything has a secret meaning behind it. And most of the time, as much as it pains to admit it, it's bad. Nothing turns out the way we predict, the way we want it too.

It's not as simple as the movies make out, having your heart broken isn't something that you can get over by eating a whole tub of Ben & Jerry's. It's constant. The dull ache echoes through your body, slowly seeping through every single vein and battering your already beaten heart. Every touch that you ever had with the person becomes an injection of pain; the initial sting and then the after effect that creeps through your arteries, infecting every part of your soul and turning it bitter and cold. After a while, you do become used to it - as everyone would do with enough repetitive damage, but it still manages to hurt just as much as it always did. Your heart has a way of wrapping itself around your lungs and throat, restricting the air and causing you to feel hollow and empty, a pathetic former shadow of yourself. And it never gets easier, without them there you feel incomplete, like a part of you is missing. Without them there, it's hard to breathe.

Every heart break comes with a story; and this is the tale of two girls.

* * *

><p>Brittany once looked at Santana like she'd just won the lottery. There was such intensity in Brittany's eyes; the cobalt blue sparkled like a bright star whenever they'd gaze at the caramel skinned beauty. It was if the blonde would move heaven and earth just to see a smile on that angelic face of the Latina's.<p>

It was like Santana possessed wings that no-one else, apart from Brittany could see. It was never the look of two infatuated teenagers; it was a channel of devoted affection and eternal love. They used to look at each other like they could never love anyone else; because they were meant to be together, they were created on this earth to find each other, and love one another until the end of time.

But now the image that Santana has lodged in her brain isn't a repeat of the look that she's seen thousands of times before. The once gleaming blue eyes, were now empty and cold. The love that had once glazed them had been replaced with an eerie silence. Santana clutched at her legs, her forehead pressed tightly against her kneecaps. Perfectly manicured nails dug deep into her olive forearms, leaving ruby indentations whilst her tears left salty trails down her tanned cheeks.

The memory wrenched her heart, sinking her stomach further into her crumbled body. Her eyes were squeezed tightly; attempting to force out the memories along with the waterfall that covered her face. The pain clawed up from the deepest, darkest corners of her heart and clawed its way up her throat; leaving the brunette in deep, emotional agony that she couldn't escape.

"Why did she leave?"

The Latina breathed into the empty apartment that she'd become well accustomed to over the last eight months. The blondes presence still lingered, some of her possessions still remained locked inside the few rooms they'd once both called home. Santana sucked in a several deep breaths, hoping to fill her lungs with oxygen. Yet despite the attempt, no amount of oxygen could every really fill her weakened lungs. They were constricted, like a slow puncture had been formed and they were slowly collapsing - draining the life out of her.

"Let go Santana. Stop holding on."

Santana's sobs minimised, allowing the blur to fade from her eyes and the moonlight to pounce on her pupils. She squinted at the contact, slowly moving her head from left to right to examine the desolate space she lived in. Brittany's scent still clung to the furniture, impacting the miniscule space that remained inside the malfunctioning chest of the broken Latina. She was barely breathing with a broken heart that somehow managed to keep beating.

"Happy five year anniversary Britt."

Another broken whisper escaped her lips; the coffee brown eyes welled up once more before a tingle ran across her skin, diverting her gaze to the words scribbled onto her inner forearm. The black ink hanging onto her tanned skin where it would remain forever reading;

_This too shall pass._

She'd got the tattoo two years ago, when she thought she'd encountered the worst possible thing she would ever endure - her father's death. The dancer had held her in her arms for four days straight, comforting her and being there for her as she had no idea what else to do. Whenever Santana had experienced anything bad, whenever she'd been going through tough times Britt had always been there for her.

But now, now on the anniversary of her and Britt's relationship, she was falling apart and the blonde was the reason. San's heart crumpled as the words processed through her mind, her stomach twisting and sending acidic liquid into her throat. Clenching her fists at the pain, she banged heavily against the floor with her fists, whimpering with agony.

* * *

><p>A buzz rang throughout the silent hall, flowing into the bedroom where Santana lay broken on the floor. She somehow managed to summon the strength to pull herself up out of her depressive slumber and traipse through the corridor in search of her mobile.<p>

Flicking up the lid she revealed a single name - Berry. A hollow breath departed her chapped lips as she sniffed in the sadness, attempting to return her cracked voice to her normal tone.

"Hello?"

"Santana?" A high voice spoke; the Latina's right eye winced at the pitch before clicking several times on the side buttons, minimising the volume.

"Yeah," A sniff punctuated her sentence, "I'm here."

"Get ready, me, you and Quinny are going out tonight." She said firmly, my body screamed at the statement, giving me other ideas.

"Rach… I-I can't. N-not tonight." The tanned brunette stuttered, another sob escaped her lips as she bit down on her lower lip; in attempt to conceal it.

Rachel breathed in, listening to the sound of the tanned woman hidden sobs, which turned out not to be as quiet as the Latina had hoped. The smaller brunette glanced around her apartment before resting on a set of familiar hazel eyes that was listening in to the conversation.

A sad smile crossed her face and the blonde rose from the sofa, sauntering over to the stool situated beside her brunette. Quinn parted her lips, mouthing 'what' at the brunette in front of her.

"Do you need us to come over?"

The Jewish girl spoke; her face fell further as the blonde examined her face, acknowledging the going out proposal. Nerves started tingling around various body parts of both their bodies, the blonde's body shivering in response.

"Okay, well we're only ten minutes away if you need us. Please San, don't hesitate to call. The thought of you being alone breaks both our hearts."

Brown eyes glazed with sincerity as they stared into hazel ones. The phone dialled a consistent tone and the Jewish girl lowered the phone to the counter, releasing her grip on it.

"She's getting worse Q."

The short brunette spoke, a soft palm grazed the back of her hand sympathetically as the blonde replied;

"I know," A heavy sigh punctuated her sentence; "I didn't think it was possible."

They both sat in silence; listening to each other's breathing and pondering over the thoughts that ran through the Latina's brain. Quinn's thumb was rubbing over Rachel's knuckles, and a flutter ran through the blonde's body. As if Rachel sensed it, she leaned in to press a single kiss to bright pink lips.

"I don't ever want to lose you Quinn."

"You never will." The blonde replied; pressing a light kiss to the brunette's lips.

"Today would've been there 5 year anniversary. We can't leave her alone." The Jewish girl muttered against the blonde's lips after.

"Then let's go." Quinn said, standing up and offering her hand to the tiny brunette that sat on the black fabric corner couch. Rachel smiled and placed her hand into the blondes. They exited their studio apartment, armed with a few bottles of wine and a box of tissues - not knowing what lay ahead.

* * *

><p><strong>Remember to review please! I will not be writing another chapter until I have some feedback on whether I should carry it on or not! Thank you guys, hope you enjoyed!<strong>

**Inspired by the song 'Broken' by Lifehouse. Such an amazing song, give it a listen whilst reading this! Truly emotional.**


	2. two

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Two<strong>

Santana flinched at the sound of her door being pounded. The noise that sounded from the impact made it seem as if the door was about to be kicked in.

"Santana! Open this goddamn door!"

The brunette sucked in a large gulp of air; attempting to stay silent.

"We know you're in there!"

The Latina recognised the voice to be her best friend Quinn. She debated with herself whether to keep quiet or not, but seeing as the hazel eyed blonde was there, the short brunette would probably be too - and she couldn't evade the hard evidence of the phone call earlier. A large exhalation of air escaped the plump lips of the tanned girl, and unwillingly, she dragged herself up from her feet. Before she slumbered over to the door, she stared at herself in the mirror.

The girl looking back in the mirror was a stranger. Her eyes were dark and puffy, salty tracks visibly stained her deep coffee coloured cheeks. The spark that was once in her dark brown eyes had disappeared, and was now replaced with emptiness and pain. The ghost of a person staring back at her reflected everything the Latina felt inside, all the heartache and acidic agony that coursed through her veins stood watching her.

The eye contact disconnected as Santana darted her eyes towards the door that was shaking violently due to the pressure being applied in hard punches every few seconds.

"Please let us in San." A softer voice pleaded.

"I'm coming." She sniffled, her voice slightly breaking at the end.

Her fragile hand reached out towards the latch, unhooking it and leaving the door to swing open slowly by itself. Before staring at the two women she knew were there, she sauntered back to the corner couch, throwing herself down face first onto the black fabric.

"Santana?" A high voice spoke this time in a soft tone. Berry. Santana slowly lifted her head to meet equally muddy eyes. A few seconds later and she flickered her contact between hazel and brown eyes as Q walked in.

"I-I'm here." She stuttered, swallowing harshly against the lump that lodged in her throat from the previous sobs.

"So are we San." Quinn admits, the Latinas nodded at the statement but returned her face to the couch, hoping somehow the lack of oxygen would put a stop to everything.

"I-I'm here." Quinn's heart dropped as she heard how hollow and empty the voice was of the so-called strong woman was. Rachel acknowledged the tone in the Latina's voice and stepped forward a tiny bit more.

"So are we." The blonde commented firmly, standing tall against the smaller brunette. They both watched as the Latina's eyes welled up and sunk back into the fabric of the sofa. The lights flickered on as the blonde walked away from the switch by the door.

"Santana, you've got to stop. I'm not gonna pretend to know what you're going through, but I do understand it. We're here for you and we can't leave you lying around sobbing over B..."

"Don't say her name." Santana snapped, anger radiated off her body and aimed at the blonde who was now standing rigid with her fists balled up by her side.

"Or what? You can't escape hearing her name forever you know that right Santana?"

Santana shot up with anger, narrowing her eyes and scowling at Quinn who was only metres away from her. "Fuck yo-"

"STOP! Jesus fucking Christ you two! Stop arguing!" The Jewish girl screamed, stopping the Latina in her tracks as she was storming towards the blonde. Their mouths both gaped open, dropping at the words that came out of the singer's mouth.

"Did you just swear?" Santana half-heartedly giggled for what felt like the first time in months, it basically was the first time she'd actually smiled in months.

"You two are so infuriating! My god!" The tiny brunette brought her hands up and pressed the heels of her hands to each side of her temples. A chuckle escaped the blonde's mouth as well as she stared at her girlfriend with such surprise.

"Look Quinn - stop butchering Santana, you'd be the same if you were in her position. Probably worse considering Santana's track record of being a strong woman." She muttered to the blonde and looking up to her before turning to the Latina;

"And you," She punctuated with a grasp on the tanned girls chin, "You need to go and have a shower, cause honestly; you do not smell like the aroma of roses."

She sniffed, flinching at the scent that flowed off the Latina - sweat and tears.

"Then you're going to get read, sit down with Quinn and I, and we're going to share this bottle of wine with us before we go out. Got it?"

Santana's eyes dropped to her clutched hands which were in front of her stomach before nodding in confirmation and walking off towards the bedroom.

Santana entered her bedroom, sucking in the tears that she'd held in since being accompanied by her two best friends. As she stripped down into her underwear, leaving her discarded clothes scattered on the floor - she walked into the en-suite which held a large walk-in shower. She switched on the water and waited for it to heat up.

* * *

><p>Once again she was met by the broken girl that stared at her through the reflective surface, tears now falling from each eye and streaming down her perfect cheeks. Santana blinked slowly and stepped in to the shower with no concern for the temperature.<p>

She was immediately washed by the pelting bullets of the hot water, but relieved as she no longer felt the sting of each tear as it painted the canvas of her olive skin.

See, that's the good thing about showers, you can hide the tears and cry - and no-one can hear or question it, because you can blame it on the shampoo that stung your eyes, causing them to swell up and redden.

This is exactly what Santana did after spending twenty minutes in the shower. Quinn questioned her on the red ring that surrounded her dark, broken eyes;

"I got some shampoo in my eyes." She commented firmly, lying straight into the eyes of her best friend.

"Yeah. Right, shampoo." Q replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the pathetic attempt of a lie.

* * *

><p>A few hours later they found themselves at Elements, a new nightclub just outside Manhattan, only a few blocks away from Santana's seventh floor apartment in the Big Apple.<p>

"Come on, let's dance." Rachel offered a hand to the Latina who was hunched on a bar stool. She widened her eyes at the word 'dance' as her mind shot to Brittany immediately. Santana flickered her gaze away towards the tall, dark and handsome bartender that'd been making eyes at her since she'd walked in the door.

"What can I get you beautiful?" He questioned, his strong jaw clenching into a smirk as he eyed up the Latina sitting in front of him. Santana forced a smile at him before returning her eyes to the Jewish girl that stood in front of her.

"Nah, you and Quinn go ahead. I'm going order a drink from..." She paused and gestured to the bartender.

"Puck, Miss. The name's Puck." He winked at the brunette who crossed her leg over the other, revealing a perfectly tanned thigh.

Rachel darted her gaze between the bartender and Santana, examining the situation. Quinn tugged on her hand and furrowed her brows, questioning her sudden standstill.

"C'mon Berry." She muttered, grinning at the smaller brunette, "Let's go make everyone jealous."

The Jewish girl looked at Santana and started a mental conversation

_You sure you're okay?_

_I'm fine. _The Latina nodded, darting her eyes between each one of her deep brown eyes.

_Don't do anything stupid San._ Rachel's left eyebrow quirked upwards.

_You don't know he's stupid._ The Latina smirked; nodding at the brunette before turning her attention to the muscular bartender.

As Quinn and Rachel walked towards the dance floor hand in hand, Q leaned into the brunettes side and spoke;

"If she's gonna sleep with a random bartender again, you're gonna have to let her."

"But she doesn't want him. She does even want his gender Q." Berry reasoned, genuine concern plastered her face.

"Well that's her healing process. I guess you should just be thankful this one isn't a leggy blonde with blue eyes." Q shrugged, turning towards Rachel and placing her hands on her waist, swaying to the music.

"Oh god, d'you remember her? Jheeze." The brunette flickered back her mind to three months ago...

* * *

><p><em>Rachel, Quinn and Santana had all just walked into Bar 32 - and almost instantly the whole club stared at them with awe as they approached the bar. A young blonde woman, probably around the same age took a step forward and eyed up Santana, starting up a conversation with a 'what can I get you?' - accompanied by a wink.<em>

_The singer tugged on Q's hand, pulling her down slightly so she could whisper into her ear;_

_"She looks like Britt." The Jewish girl's eyebrows furrowed in concern, and the blonde standing next to her mirrored her expression._

_"A shitty version of her, yeah." Q replied; examining the woman currently flirting with Santana. They glugged down their drinks, before Quinn insisted on going to the dance floor._

_"Yo, San, c'mon let's dance." Rachel yelled, grabbing the Latina's hand and tugging slightly._

_"Nah. I'm good here." She retorted firmly; yanking her hand away from the smaller brunette's grip._

_"You sure? You know you like to shake dat ass." Quinn said in a slightly ghetto voice, causing Rachel to burst into laughter at the lame attempt._

_"I'm good. I'm just gonna stay here and talk to Whitney." She nodded towards the blonde behind the bar, who was grinning intensely at the olive skinned beauty sitting less than a metre away from her._

_As Q and Berry walked hand in hand away, they paused to look back at the two furiously flirting over the bar._

_"She even has a similar goddamn name as her. I mean Whitney! Seriously! That's like one letter off Brittany!" Rachel screamed, a few faces shot a 'go-back-to-the-asylum' look, but Quinn shot them down with the Cheerio scowl she'd perfected in High School._

_"Well done Sherlock, case 1 complete." Quinn giggled, teasing the brunette wrapped in her arms._

_After a few hours, Q and Rachel decided to leave - searching the bar and dance floor for the Latina._

_"Where the fuck is she?" Quinn spat, scanning the room._

_"Oh fuck her. I'll give her a text and she'll come back to ours." She added, whipping out her phone and typing furiously._

_As they exited, a familiar giggle echoed through the street. Rachel and Berry both turned to question each other but took a few steps towards a darkened alley next to the bar. On cue, Santana stumbled out of the darkness, dress slanted to the side and a bright pink patch of skin on the side of her neck._

_"Oh, um.. Hey guys." She muttered, her eyes reflecting the 'deer-caught-in-the-headlights' look._

_"Santana, what did you..."_

_Once again, just like the fucking cliché they were in - the blonde bartender stepped into the light, mirroring the Latina's similar look of ragged clothing and hickey-fied neck._

_"Nothing. Bye Bri-uh I mean Whitney." Santana said waving to the blonde. She smoothed down her dress aggressively and stormed off down the street with Quinn and Rachel in toe, judging her from afar._

_That night Rachel and Quinn were lying on their bad, facing up towards the ceiling listening to the intense sobbing that bounced through the air from the living room. They didn't get any sleep._

* * *

><p>Rachel was snapped out her memory as Q shook her shoulders; eyeing her curiously.<p>

"What the hell were you thinking about?"

"Sorry, just remembering that thing Santana hooked up with at Bar 32. Y'know, the skankier version of Brittany." She giggled, watching Q as she smiled at the comment before pressing her lips to the taller blonde.

Berry looked at Santana and decided to delve into a silent conversation.

_You sure you're okay? _She asked, furrowing her brows slightly.

_I'm fine._

_Don't do anything stupid San._ The Jewish girls left eyebrow rose slightly, watching Santana as her gaze flickered between the bartender and herself.

_You don't know he's stupid._ The Latina teased, the right side of her mouth rising slightly as if she was trying to conceal a smile. But instead it came out as a smirk.

Rachel and Quinn walked off hand in hand towards the crowd of people, disappearing between the bodies.

"So beautiful, do you have a name?" The hazel green eyed man said.

"Santana." The Latina replied; sipping her drink and licking the taste off her lips slowly and seductively. It caught the bartender's attention as he was momentarily stunned by the act, and dropped a glass which shattered into pieces on the floor.

"Sorry about that." He muttered, embarrassed.

"No problem."

"Anyway, what do you do for a living?" A voice came from behind the bar. Santana watched him disappear behind the bar and clean up the broken glass that was pieced all over the floor. She glanced around the room in hope of seeing a leggy blonde she could have her way with whilst pretending her to be someone else. As there was no-one remotely attractive or Brittany-looking, the Latina eyed up the bartender and considered him.

"I'm actually a fire-fighter." She replied; not knowing his reaction to her masculine career path.

"Damn girl. Nice." The silence lingered as Santana didn't know what else to say to that.

"So, can I get you another drink?" He murmured, leaning on the bar and into the brunette. "On the house of course."

"Mhm..." Santana replied; running her finger around the edge of her cocktail glass before bringing it to her lips and tracing her tongue over the pad. "Same again, please Hock." She said uninterestingly,

"Puck. And of course." He muttered, turning his attention to the cocktail shaker and several liquors that stood in line behind the bar. Seconds later, he slid a glass over towards the Latina, who glugged it in an equal amount of time.

"When do you get off?" Santana questioned; acknowledging the achy throb that grew more and more in between her thighs every day.

"Not until the bar closes, which is usually like 1 or 2?" Santana slid her phone out from her bra and examined the time; 11:42am. _Christ, don't wanna stay here for that long. _She whispered to herself.

"But I get a five minute break every hour and I haven't had mine for this hour." He added, winking whilst attempting a seductive pout.

"Perfect, c'mon then." She grabbed his hand and whisked him away out the fire exit of the club. He hovered momentarily, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and glugging it as they stepped out the exit. Santana pushed him up against the moist brick wall of the alley and stepped into him, her stomach pressed against a bulge forming in his jeans.

"Fuck you're sexy." He whispered into her ear, biting not-so-gently at her neck whilst she considered the explanation of the hickey he was leaving.

Without thinking, she unbuttoned his jeans and shoved her hand down the front of his boxers, massaging the swollen member. He leant forward and attempted to kiss her, but the Latina moved her lips to his neck and traced her tongue up his jaw.

His hands roamed over her perfectly formed ass and squeezed it, pulling her closer to him whilst he fondled with the tights, slipping his hand in between her thighs and meeting her centre. He rubbed furiously and the Santana thought she'd need to buy a new clit at this rate.

Puck picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, hitching up her skirt and ripping a slight hole in her tights by the crotch. He attempted to kiss her again, in which he got a reply;

"No kissing. Just sex." She murmured, he looked at her curiously before pressing his lips to her neck and licking over the spot he'd left a hickey.

The truth is, despite the whole no kissing thing sounding kind of slutty, and making her look like a prostitute - ever since Brittany left, her lips hadn't met anyone else's.

Her kisses weren't something she threw around anymore, in high school she may have; but ever since the beautiful blonde, she couldn't bring herself to doing it. Santana knew no-one else would ever be able to match the feeling she got whenever Brittany kissed her; so she never kissed during sex, or made eye contact for that matter. Just like high school.

Santana slid her hands down his muscular chest to remove her current thought process and brought out his cock, teasing it gently with her fingertips. She covered it with a condom, and guided it towards her centre, hoping he may be able to relieve some of the built up sexual tension she had been suffering from.

He thrust in, causing a gasp to escape her lips as he was bigger than she'd expected. After a few minutes of heavy panting and satisfaction (from his side) he shuddered and came. Releasing her from his grip and retracting his body piece. Santana placed her feet firmly on the floor and smoothed down her dress, kissing him on the cheek as he zipped up his jeans.

"That was good babe. Can I get your number?" He asked, whipping out her phone before she could answer.

"Um, let me take yours." She answered, knowing she'd never contact him. He took her phone and entered his digits, placing the phone back in her palm and winking at her.

He kissed her cheek sweetly and headed inside, leaving her to mull over the lack of satisfaction he managed to give her. _Or any other person for that matter, _she thought to herself. She stood in the alley, picking up the bottle that lay on the floor.

It was the Jack Daniels Puck had brought out with him; he must have put it down before their few minutes of intimacy. She took a huge glug, feeling it burn as it entered her stomach, mixing with the acid. It did burn, but it was a release as it drowned away some of the thoughts of the blonde that invaded her mind.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews please?<strong>


	3. three

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Three<strong>

She entered a few seconds after him, and before even being able to take breath as she stood inside the heated room, her name was called.

"Lopez!"

Santana turned around to see Quinn waving at her frantically. She walked over, her shoulders hunched up.

"Where have you been?" She questioned, her eyes flicking to my hair. "And what the hell have you been doing?" Her hands reached towards my hair and picked at a few bits, catching the tangles in between her fingers.

"Uh-uhm... Nothing." Santana answered, the words catching in her throat.

Rachel bounced over just in that moment and spied my hair in the exact same way Quinn had.

"That cute bartender just walked in, clothes scruffy and looking pretty happy." Rachel stated, Santana shot her a scowl as if she'd just told on her.

"Santana..." The blonde said disapprovingly, hanging on the 'a' at the end of the Latina's name.

"What Quinn? What do you want? You tell me I shouldn't weep and cry over _her_ leaving," Santana spat, replacing her name with 'her' as it didn't sting quite as much, "But then you judge me when I show interest in someone."

Quinn stood with her mouth gaping open, staring at the Latina with doe-eyes. "No, actually Santana, I have a problem with you fucking a randomer because they eyed you up and down. It doesn't work like that, getting over someone. You should fucking know that."

The words exited her mouth with anger, fury burned in her hazel eyes as they collided with deep brown ones which were equally infuriated.

"You can sleep with thousands of people. I would narrow it down to guys or girls but it seems the high school Santana has come back. Hey all we need now is Brittany and you can fuck with her feelings because you're unsure of your own."

The slap came out of nowhere. Quinn's face tingled and stung painfully as she palmed her own face, where it had reddened.

"Quinn, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean too." Santana uttered; looking at the blonde apologetically.

Without even thinking about her actions; Quinn wrapped her arms around Santana, and hugged her tightly. Her hand found Santana's hair and brushed through it, attempting to untangle some of the knots.

"I know San, you didn't mean it." The blonde felt no anger towards the girl currently occupying her arms; she knew how broken she was - and the strong women act she put on would never last. "You miss her."

The Latina sniffed and felt the impact of the words crush her already shattered heart. It didn't matter that it'd been eight months; the feeling was still almost unbearable.

"I miss her a lot. And you can't even begin to understand how pathetic it makes me feel," A sniff punctuated her sentence, "wondering if she misses me, or even thinks about me."

The Latina was now sobbing in an open space, a space which was full of crowded bodies that couldn't help but touch each other in the cramped conditions. Santana never cried in front of people; and now she was pouring her eyes out in front of a room full of strangers. Quinn couldn't be mad at her for her vulnerability, and so she just kept consoling her until the sobs subsided.

All the while Rachel was rubbing Santana's lower back in circular motions and mouthing 'what do we do?' to Quinn. In which the blonde answered 'I don't know anymore'. Sad expressions both pasted their faces as they knew how helpless they were.

* * *

><p>After a few minutes, Santana pulled back and nodded at her two best friends who both looked like lost little girls, unsure of what to expect from the Latina.<p>

The olive skinned beauty remembered her open display of emotions and flinched; "I've gotta go check my make-up. Be right back." She said quickly before spinning and heading towards the ladies bathroom.

As she walked away, she checked her hair which currently held several knots from the brick-friction she'd received outside. She attempted to comb her fingers through it as she didn't watch where she was walking. A body collided with hers, a warmth stung throughout her body;

"Watch where you're fucking going... Jheeze." Santana's eyes gazed at the dark skinny jeans that covered legs that could go on for days, ending in black high heeled shoe boots.

She slid her eyesight upwards towards a tiny piece of skin that showed, which wasn't covered by the white cape top that hung loosely over the slim figure.

Her heart dropped as she recognised the scent that flowed off figure standing in front of her. It was a fresh bunch of waves that crashed into her as a vanilla scent invaded her lungs; causing them to seize and clench at the familiar aroma.

Her eyes wandered up to find long golden locks draping gently over the shoulders of the woman, and the Latina's stomached twisted and turned, as if she was about to hurl.

"Santana?" A voice spoke softly; husking out the words as if they'd lodged in the person's throat before exiting their mouth. "Hey."

The Latina's eyes shot up from the floor to meet sad blue orbs and a similar, yet familiar smile.

"Hi." Santana managed to croak out; slightly mystified.

She blinked twice and stared incredulously at the tall, slim blonde standing in front her of. Her throat swelling and heart stinging like the blonde was physically slicing her heart with a razor blade, leaving deep gashes in her soul.

Their eyes met in a surprisingly awkward gaze that neither broke. Santana glared into the piercing blue orbs she had thousands of times before, and saw no gleam, no spark - just like she had the day Brittany had left her.

* * *

><p>"Oh shit." Rachel's face went blank; Q stared at her as the blood drained out her face.<p>

"Baby, what? What's wrong?" The blonde demanded, shaking the brunette's shoulders as she gulped, nodding across the dance floor.

Through the heads and bodies; Quinn spied a tall blonde standing next to the Latina.

"Brittany." They both breathed in sync, turning to face each other.

"Oh shit." Quinn repeated the Jewish girl's earlier words.

"What the fuck do we do?"

"Rachel you're the one that should know! You're always so full of ideas!" Quinn panicked

"Aren't you supposed to be her best friend?"

"So are you Berry."

They both stared at each other completely clueless, still not knowing what to do. Instinctively they marched on over to the two girls;

"Uhm.. Hey." Rachel spoke, flickering her gaze between Santana and Brittany.

"Rachel!" Brittany took a step forward and wrapped her arms around the small brunette, who returned the hug warily

"You too Quinn." The tall blonde nodded at her, slightly opening her hug as if she was asking if it was alright to hug the smaller blonde.

Quinn crossed her arms and stood straight; narrowing her eyes slightly at the invitation. Brittany retracted her arms and smiled sweetly at her, causing the scowl to falter as the taller blonde had one of those smiles that could cheer anyone up.

"Yeah Britt, nice to see you again." Q responded; not wanting to be rude.

There was a long awkward silence, whilst Rachel and Quinn's eyes were darting between the obvious elephant standing in the room and the two girls who created it. Santana and Brittany were just looking at each other, as if they were having a silent conversation.

It's funny. They used to look at each other like this all the time, and be having a mind discussion - but now, it was just a stare. As if they'd been disconnected from each other the day Brittany walked out.

However, the blonde instantly recognised the 'sex hair' Santana was sporting; and reached up to untangle it like she had so many times before. Quinn and Rachel hesitated, not knowing how the Latina would react; whether it be breaking down again or lashing out in anger.

"I've gotta go." Santana exclaimed, swaying backwards as she leant away from the pale hand that extended towards her.

"Do you want us to come with?" Rachel asked, grabbing Quinn's hand and pulling slightly.

"Uh.. N-no.. You guys stay. Have some fun and I'll see you tomorrow or something yeah? I kind of want to go home now. Thanks for the evening guys." _It would've helped if the reason for going out hadn't turned up._ She added mentally.

"Okay, see ya."

Santana spun around, not meeting the piercing blue gaze that was burning holes into the back of her head.

"Bye Santana. Nice seeing you." Brittany called out; hoping to meet the beautiful deep brown eyes she knew only too well.

The Latina slipped out the door, grabbing her coat on the way and into the damp New York air. Santana had always loved New York, the smell, the skyline, the neon signs that should've looked tacky but instead promoted it somehow. But it reminded her of the blonde that stood inside the building behind her, so she walked away - hoping her heart wouldn't tug her back and into the arms she so badly yearned for.

Eight months. Eight months since she'd seen or talked to Brittany, and annoyingly the ache that she'd become so familiar with, decreased with just that one accidental meeting. She walked towards the liquor store on 4th avenue, only a few blocks away from the club which was on east-15th street. She bought a bottle of her favourite vodka and clutched it tightly as she walked down 2nd avenue to Quinn's and Rachel's apartment after deciding she'd need company after downing the liquor she held in a brown paper bag.

An hour later, she was almost passed out, lying on the bathroom floor with a towel pressed to her forehead. Cold sweat seeped out of her pores as the bile rose in her throat once more, causing her to wretch over the toilet bowl and puke acidic liquid into it. She turned to the empty bottle of vodka on the floor and wailed once more, allowing more tears to trail salty tears down her cheeks. The taste of stale alcohol and stale sick emanated from her mouth like a stench and she flinched, inhaling her own breath.

* * *

><p>The Latina disappeared out the door, leaving Rachel and Quinn standing with Brittany.<p>

"So, um, how are you Britt?" Britt questioned; standing awkwardly whilst gesturing to the couple in front of her.

"Good thanks." Quinn replied a little too fast to sound polite.

"And you?" Rachel added, smiling at the taller blonde.

"I'm...Um-uh. I'm fine thanks."

Rachel eyed the tall blonde up and down to examine how she really was. She didn't look good, at all. Her blonde hair fell limply over her shoulders, there was barely a shine to it and it hadn't been brushed all that well. Her piercing blue eyes had now faded to a darker shade after Santana had disappeared, darker pink bags were visible beneath her eyes and a tiny red ring coated her eyelids - which was familiar as Santana sported the same thing ninety five percent of the time.

"So where you living now?" Rachel added as the awkward silence had continued from the departure of Santana.

"I'm renting an apartment on 1st avenue, over Veniero's Cafe. It's small, but it's doing me well at the moment. Plus the rent is cheap as so that's always a bonus."

"Yeah, you two still living on 2nd?"

"Uh huh." Quinn grunted, not looking best pleased by how cavalier Britt was being about seeing her, Rachel and Santana again.

"I've um... Gotta return to my friends." Britt added after an awkward silence, gesturing to a couple of people crowded round a bar table. "I was dragged out tonight by them, so I should probably return."

"Well we've gotta go now anyway. Long day tomorrow. Bye Britt." Rachel uttered, sensing Q's current feelings about the taller blonde. She wrapped her arms around the dancer and tugged shot her an apologetic smile as she pulled Quinn through the crowd and out the door. Brittany just waved after them, forcing a sad smile to cross her face.

They decided to stop at Gregg's diner just down the road from their apartment and grab a cheeseburger and fries.

"She looked just as unhappy as Santana did."

"Well she's the one that left San, as well as crushing her heart into millions of pieces." Rachel put a finger up to interject when the blonde just carried on talking, "Without reason may I add. So as far as I'm concerned, she deserves to be miserable."

The brunette's face fell into a pout, her lower lip jutting out slightly and Quinn rolled her eyes before reaching over to place her hand over her girlfriends.

"Sorry. I just..." The blonde paused; trying to think of the best way of putting what she wanted to say without offending the brunette; "I just don't have much sympathy for her. She hurt my best friend, and didn't even explain why she left."

"You know Brittany, she must have a reason - she's not heartless. There must be a reason why."

Quinn stopped in her tracks, turning to face the brunette with wide, angered eyes.

"Well she could at least have fucking told her why! Instead of leaving her to mope around not knowing where she went wrong!" Quinn dropped Rachel's hand and took a step back; the anger pulsed through her;

"Why are you defending her anyway?" She hissed at the brunette, who looked startled at the blonde's reaction.

"Because I know is that love, well true love never dies. And I know they had that Q, they had true love because they're soul mates. And it's always there, lurking in the deepest crevices of the heart; resurfacing for air when it's allowed."

Quinn shared an equally stunned face as she listened to the Jewish girl pouring out her reasons for defending their best friends ex-girlfriend.

"So that's why I'm defending her. Because I know that they are meant to be together; both of them can run away from each other but fate will bring them together in the end. And I don't think either of them knows that; so we shouldn't stand in the way because fate will run its course, whether we interject or not. But I think it'd be easier if we just didn't."

Rachel shrugged, before giving Quinn a small smile to see if she'd calmed down. The blonde returned the smile and they carried on walking to their apartment.

* * *

><p>"Santana?" A voice called; the Latina cracked open her eyes; craning her neck to watch a blonde and brunette walk in, hand in hand. The once-cool tiles on their bathroom floor were now steamy as her hot breath misted them up.<p>

"Jesus San, again?" Quinn said, eyeing the empty vodka bottle. She walked over to the woman on the floor and hoisted her up. Supporting her underneath her arms and dragging her towards the spare bedroom across the hallway.

"I can't help its Quinnsy." The Latina slightly slurred - an after effect of the bottle of liquor she'd downed. Q shook her head as she threw her onto the bed and placed a cover over her.

"I know honey; we should've gone somewhere else. I'm sorry we made you come out." Rachel walked in behind, muttering slowly as she clasped the glass of water that she held tightly.

"Nah friendsies. It was good to sees her. She looked beautifuls. As alwaysss." Santana added, shutting her eyes and turning over to put her back facing her two best friends.

* * *

><p>A buzzing awoke Santana, causing a throbbing to form in her head as she reached for the light that was brightening up the room. She groaned as the caller ID told her work was calling;<p>

"He-hello?" She grumbled; wincing at the light that emanated from the phone.

"Lopez. Get down to the station now. We've got a fire out on 1st avenue, some apartment over a shop or something." A rough masculine voice spoke; she recognised it to be Matt Rutherford, the deputy assistant chief of her area.

"Yeah, be there soon." The phone rang silent as the Latina hung up, flinching at the dry burn that ran through her throat. She ran to the bathroom, gulping down what felt like several gallons of water and threw on any clothes she could find. A thud sounded on the door three times and Quinn walked in;

"You okay?"

"Fine. Emergency down at the station; gotta go." She replied; pushing past the blonde that stood in the hallway and grabbing her coat that laid on the sofa.

"What time is it anyway?" Santana asked, rubbing her eyes as she could feel the fatigue overtaking her body.

"3am." She mumbled, crossing her arms and leaning against the kitchen counter watching the olive skinned beauty walk around the apartment.

"Where's the fire at?" Rachel asked, wandering into the room with short shorts and a tank top.

"1st avenue. Apartment over a shop or something." The Latina responded, waving to the couple as she walked towards the exit. "Thanks for looking after me guys, see you... Whenever."

She quickened her step as she remembered she didn't have her car. _Fuck, fuck, and fuck _she thought as she hastily exited the building, sprinting towards the station a few blocks away.

"Shop? There are like barely any shops on 1st avenue. Weird." Quinn muttered, walking up to the brunette and wrapping her arms around her waist before pulling her in for a kiss. Mid thought Rachel broke the kiss, widening her eyes and feeling her breath catch in her throat.

"But there is a cafe. Veniero's." The Jewish girls face ran pale and Quinn looked equally as startled. Both of them spoke in unison; staring wide-eyed at each other.

"Brittany."

* * *

><p><strong>Review please! Tell me what you think!<strong>


	4. four

**Updated this chapter just a bit! Only a few lines though where Santana rescues Brittany! Apologies!**

* * *

><p><strong>Harder To Breathe<br>Chapter Four**

Santana entered the station, wrenching her hair up into a ponytail and chucking on her uniform. It all seemed too quick as they arrived at the scene, fire blasting out of the windows as well as thick, black smoke.

"Lopez. Bunker gear and SCBA now. You're going in." A muscular, dark man with a scruffy five o'clock shadow yelled from across the street.

Santana recognised it to be Matt, who'd always sent her in knowing she was better than most of the male fire-fighters. He'd been her best friend ever since she'd joined, however she knew he'd also had a thing for her despite knowing her sexuality.

She geared up quickly, not wishing to waste one more minute of the burning buildings time. Even though the Latina had been doing this for a good few years; the nerves still came back as she knew she was endangering her life.

But ever since Brittany had left, she'd gotten better at her job. Probably due to not caring whether she ever left the building ever again. The adrenaline that pumped around her body felt fucking amazing, and so did rescuing people - and that's why she loved the job, it was her life.

"Aww, too much of a pussy Rutherford?" The Latina teased, which she received a light punch in the shoulder as Matt made his way over to her.

Bright lights flashed across the street, voices bickering behind her as they 'oh' and 'wow' over the lively orange flames that licked the windows above the cafe.

"Whenever you're ready, not like we have a burning building or anything. I'd still like for Veniero's to be standing in the morning." Santana glanced over Matt's shoulder to see Finn, the dopey and incredibly dumpy Chief of their area's station yelling at them.

"Right, we have a suspected death. Young female, aged 22 in apartment 3. Was called in half an hour ago, but as of her death we're not 100% sure. So go in looking for a body or any remains." Finn added, tapping hard on his notebook with a biro.

Santana nodded and entered the hallway, next to the cafe. She sprinted up the stairs and immediately felt the heat radiating through her body suit before even seeing any flames. She breathed in heavily, feeling the fresh oxygen sink into her lungs as it escaped the tank. The adrenaline pumped through her body as she kicked down the weak, wooden door to the only apartment building that was affected by the fire.

* * *

><p>The apartment was a mess. If anyone's in here, they're fucked. She thought as her eyes scanned the bright orange apartment, illuminated by the flames. There were several items of furniture burning as she stepped carefully through the burning apartment.<p>

She could feel the floor bending as she stepped, another sign that she had to get out of there quickly. A fellow fire-fighter tapped on her shoulder and signified to get out as the smoke was thickening and clouding the Latina's vision. Something itched at the back of her neck, as she felt a presence in the room.

"Lopez, get out now. It's about to collapse." Finn's voice spoke through the radio attached to the inner fabric of her uniform.

"No. I'm staying here. There's someone alive in here. I can feel it." She answered; he obliged knowing full well how stubborn the Latina could be.

"Lopez..." He demanded, in any attempt to sway Santana's decision.

"No. I'll be out after I've searched every room." She answered, reaching inside her jacket and switching off the radio.

She took another gulp of oxygen and stepped over a burning chair that emitted copious amounts of smoke before coming to a short hallway with two doors. Entering the first one, she only saw a massive pile of flames charring at the what-used-to-be bedframe before acknowledging no-one was there.

As she went to exit, the doorframe collapsed in, trapping her inside the room. Being in this position in a previous incident, she jumped lightly over it, landing on the side of the hallway, where the floor was strongest. The next door came, and she pushed on the handle - hoping it would just swing open. But by the sound of it, it'd been locked.

Her fist pounded heavily against the door, knowing the apartment owner was probably in there. When there was no response for a minute or two, and knowing the floor could collapse in, killing her and the owner who was on the other side of the door in an instant.

A vibration shot through her wristband to let her know her oxygen was running out, so she took one final breath and threw off the mask - leaving her face completely uncovered. The scorching heat was too much to take as the flames licked the walls in the corridor, edging ever closer to the Latina.

A large bang sounded as the ceiling supporter fell down, causing the floor to give in at the large weight and creating a hole where it'd burned through the floor into the cafe below. She flinched at the burning sensation on her arm as Santana realised the falling debris had caused her jacket to catch on fire. Instinctively, she yanked the jacket off and stamped on the arm, putting out the potential-scarring flame.

"Fuck this."

She yelled to herself, thrusting her left leg against the door and watching as the panel sank through underneath her kick. Her arm gripped on the handle after reaching through the hole and opening the door. A blonde head of hair caught her eye as it laid still in the ceramic bath next to tiny open window.

Santana's heart started pounding as she edged closer to the figure lying lifelessly inside the tube, and her breath hitched inside her throat - causing her to cough erratically as the thick smoke entered her lungs. Considering she had trouble breathing already due to emotional reasoning, physical reasons weren't helping it.

Her hand reached over to the blonde, pushing the moist hair that covered the face of the woman to the side. A pale yet angelic face shone up at her as piercing blue eyes started to show through slightly open eyelids. The Latina's face was only inches away, and it was uncovered due to the removal of protective clothing - and sweating heavily because of the heat of the flames.

"Brittany." She whispered, the ocean-blue eyes opened at the voice, smiling slightly at the sight of the olive skinned beauty that stood over her.

"Santana..." She answered, a smile gracing her beautiful face. "A-am I in h-heaven?" She stuttered, coughing heavily at the sudden hitch that lodged in her throat.

The Latina could feel her heart weighing in on her, causing her chest to shrink and heart to swell as it throbbed heavily against her ribcage. She could no longer feel the heat of the orange waves that could burn her existence to a crisp. She could no longer feel the thick smoke clogging up her lungs and reducing her oxygen intake more so than ever before.

All she could feel was the spark that imploded as dark coffee eyes swirled with azure orbs. She felt herself remove her protective gloves, leaving her in only a black tank top and protective trousers with incredibly attractive braces that held them up.

Her thumb pad stroked over the cheek of the blonde, caressing the skin carefully as she wiped away tears. Suddenly, the two women were lost in the moment; each of their breathings quickened, and not due to the smoke impacting their fragile lungs.

The adrenaline kicked in and Santana shook her head viciously, remembering where she was and what situation she was in;

"We've gotta get out of here."

She muttered, shoving her arms underneath the blonde's body and lifting her up so she was taking her full weight. The pale, weak arms of the dancer wrapped around the Latina's neck and clung on for dear life.

"S'ntana." The blonde mumbled, causing goose bumps to rise all over the tanned skin of the fire-fighter as she'd always loved the way Brittany said her name like that. As if she wasn't pronouncing the first 'a', and it coming out as a slight whisper.

They exited and the smoke smacked against the both of them like a brick wall; causing both women to cough harshly. The Latina's protective emotions towards Brittany kicked in, and she bent down, logging the weight of the dancer into her left arm as she picked up her slightly charred jacket that lay on the floor in front of her. She threw the jacket over the blondes head and lowered her head to the blonde's ear;

"Breathe through the fabric; it'll prevent the smoke from harming you."

She felt the blonde nod weakly in response and bent down, squatting slightly as heat rose, along with the smoke. They both had more of a chance surviving if they stayed away from the harsh toxic fumes.

Santana shook her head and tried to focus on something else apart from the love of her life clinging onto her, causing her heart to throb heavily at the pain that wrenched at her body. She crawled towards a window that had a hole shattered through it, in hope that they could take one breath of air before attempting to escape.

"Brittany. I need you to stick your face through the broken window and take a large gulp of air; can you do that for me?"

Santana asked, removing the jacket and seeing the blonde's eyes flutter open slightly as she mouthed a 'yes'. The Latina lifted the dancer's body, and craned her neck so Brittany could take in a breath of fresh air.

After Brittany retreated back into Santana's arms, she sucked in the cool New York air, refreshing her smoke-filled lungs and returned to the room, ready to make their way out the door. Dodging several pieces of flaming debris, she kicked the flaming door off its hinge that blocked the exit.

Leaving the building, she was swarmed by EMT's and other fire-fighters, before the blonde was taken out of her arms and into a near ambulance. A slight tug was felt as the dancer tried to cling onto the Latina, as well as the grip tightening on Brittany's tank top when being pulled away.

"San..." The voice trailed off as the doors shut on the ambulance, speeding away and leaving Santana in a cloud of smoke on the road.

* * *

><p>"SANTANA!" Quinn yelled, basically sprinting up to the fire engines that surrounded the burning building. A pair of strong arms held her back, preventing her from entering the fiery scene.<p>

"Excuse me ma'am, you can't enter any further. Please return home." A tall dark man spoke; big dark brown eyes sparkled at the small blonde.

"I'm Lieutenant Lopez' best friend, me and my girlfrie..." Quinn whipped her head around, unaware of Rachel's location. As her eyes scanned the crowd for the diva, 'oohs' and 'ahhs' sounded from the crowd, causing the blonde to stare the flaming building.

"Oh my god..." Quinn's jaw dropped as she witnessed a grubby, sweaty Latina walk out of the building - almost like in the movies where the whole world slows down and everyone watches in awe as the normal human being comes the hero.

The dark raven haired woman exited the building with such grace, an equally as sweaty blonde laid against her chest, her arms wrapped securely around the Latina's neck. Black smudges pasted Santana's face and sheen of sweat covered the skins of both women. Rachel approached Quinn from out of nowhere and clutched the blonde's hand, squeezing tightly to let her know she was there.

"Q? What are you looking at?"

The last word came out of a whisper from the Jewish girl's mouth as her face mirrored her girlfriends. She watched the female fire-fighter stop in the middle of the road, still clutching tightly onto the grubby blonde in her arms as several EMT's and fellow fire-fighters swarmed them. As a reaction; the couple both sprinted towards the Latina, pushing passed the gawping man that held them back previously. They advanced towards the Latina, examining her uniform - well lack of it.

"What the hell happened to your uniform San?"

Q asked; tugging slightly at the damp, tight-fitting black tank top that hung to her figure. There was no response for a minute or two and the couple looked at each other curiously; following the direction of the Latina's eyesight. The ambulance door closed with a loud thud, and the fire-fighter's eyes saddened and face fall as the vehicle sped away, leaving the three in a cloud of smoke. Such a fucking cliché Quinn thought as the olive beauty's eyes welled up.

"She's gonna be fine San. You saved her." Rachel muttered, rubbing her palm in circular motions on the Latina's back to comfort her.

* * *

><p>The next four hours carried on like this, with Rachel and Quinn comforting Santana as she signed several pieces of paperwork and was given a quick check by the remaining EMT's.<p>

"I'm fine." Santana murmured as one of the paramedics pressed a stethoscope to her chest. The Latina barely spoke anything more; only to say a few words when the couple dropped her off at her apartment.

"You gonna be alright on your own tonight S?" Q asked; leaning over the centre console in their black SUV to face the Latina, who sat motionless in the back seat - still covered in black smudges and dried sweat.

"Yeah. Thanks. Bye." The raven haired woman said bluntly; shutting the door as she walked towards her apartment entrance.

Santana entered her apartment, still sporting the fire-fighters uniform trousers. As soon as the elevator buzzed to signify the Latina's apartment, she exited warily; swaying as if she was drunk. Her head pounded heavily at the memory of the blonde that lay weakly in her arms.

A cool breeze washed over her body as she stepped into her apartment; soothing the heated skin that covered every inch of her body. It felt like she was on fire, and something itched the back of her brain telling her it wasn't because she'd spent a large amount of the evening in a burning building.

Her arms tingled where the blonde's creamy skin brushed against her own earlier that night. She'd always loved the contrast in colour when their skin touched, caramel and cream.

The Latina walked into her bedroom, ignoring the flash that repeated every few seconds from her house phone, signifying she had several messages. She slowly stripped off her uniform, leaving it in a messy trail behind her. As she arrived at her bedroom; the oh-so-familiar scent of the beautiful blonde that intoxicated her lungs just a few hours ago hit her. Except this time the restriction tightened once more, leaving her short of breaths as her lungs adjusted to the crippling pain caused by the lack of oxygen.

The scars re-opened, leaving the wounds open. They felt fresh, like the first time the emotional blade sliced into her heart after Britt left that fateful night...

* * *

><p><em>"Britt?" The Latina yelled as she entered the apartment, greeted with a warm aroma of honey and syrup.<em>

_"Mhmm... Smells good. Whatcha cookin' good lookin'?" She added, untying her combat boots and walking towards the kitchen._

_A flash of blonde hair caught her eye and immediately made her heart flutter. The same effect she had every time the blonde touched her, talked to her or even entered her brain as a memory or thought. However the blonde hair wasn't near the stove; where she expected. Instead a small olive skinned woman was standing, wearing the white apron Britt always wore when she cooked._

_"Mama?" Santana said; eyeing up the familiar sight of her mother._

_"Ah mija, buenas noches ¿Cómo estuvo tu noche?" (Ah daughter, good evening. How was your night?)_

_She asked; serving out several warm pancakes onto a dish. The Latina turned to her girlfriend, who was back at her warily, her knees bobbing up and down on the edge of the kitchen island stool._

_"Bien gracias. What are you doing here?" Panic edged into the woman's tone, as her mother wasn't the biggest fan of her relationship with Brittany._

_"Sólo quería hacer el check in en mi bebé y su ... amigo." (I just wanted to check in on my baby and her... friend.)_

_The older Latina muttered, shooting a slightly disgusted expression to her. The younger Latina flinched and Brittany stood, gravitating towards the shaking daughter._

_"Girlfriend mother. She's my girlfriend."_

_Santana hissed, edging instinctively closer towards the blonde behind the kitchen island. Brittany leant out her hand, which she quickly removed as Bianca Lopez dismissed her affectionate touch._

_"And in my apartment, you'll speak English." Santana added, stepping further in between Brittany and her mother._

_"No me digas qué hacer, yo soy tu madre." (Don't tell me what to do, I'm your mother.) Her mother snapped; hissing slightly._

_Santana quivered in anger, it flashed through her and her soft chocolate brown eyes now possessed an edge of fury._

_"You stopped being my mother when you kicked me out for telling you how in love I was."_

_"With a girl. That's a disgrace to the family name. To lose your family for her. She can't even supply for you, she has no job. She wants to become a dancer, that's never going to happen. And children? You wanted children mija. You can't ever have a child that's both of yours. Usted nunca tendrá una verdadera familia." (You'll never have a real family.)_

_The older woman spat; darting her dark chocolate eyes between similar brown ones and sky-blue ones._

_"She is my real family. The only family bond we have is at blood, it stops there. And if I could change that, I would. Mother."_

_Santana hissed, taking a step forward towards her mother, a hand cupped the younger Latina's wrist and held her back. Santana turned to find her beautiful blonde girlfriend's cheeks stained with salty tears._

_"Mija, you don't mean that." Her mother pleaded; defensively raising her hands and stepping forward in a loving gesture._

_"Get the fuck out of our apartment. Don't let the door hit your huge homophobic ass on the way out, you might break it."_

_The Latina added, not breaking eye contact with her blonde girlfriend, who's once blue eyes were full of sadness and hurt. Guilt immediately washed over the younger Latina and as soon as she heard the door click; and quickly scanned the apartment to make sure they were alone. She threw herself into the blonde; knocking her to the floor._

_"Baby I'm sorry. Don't listen to what she was saying, she doesn't know what she's talking about."_

_Santana placed butterfly kisses all over the creamy skin of Brittany's face, which was contorted into a painful twist. The blonde sighed heavily, and pushed against the shoulders of the Latina. She got up silently, walking into the bedroom and shutting the door - effectively shutting out her girlfriend. Santana brought her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees and sobbing heavily. The tears seeped out of her tear ducts, stinging each pour as it slipped down her face. With every tear came a wrench at the Latina's heart, something didn't feel right. The voices in her head shouted at her to follow the blonde, but her instincts told her not too._

_She just needs time, nothing to worry about._

_The Latina nodded in confirmation and sat on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor for a good hour. Her breath started retracting, like someone had slipped a rubber band into her chest and tightened it around her lungs, closing off an area that yearned for fresh oxygen._

_"Santana." Brittany said sternly; standing motionless in the door way of their bedroom. Uneasiness ran throughout her body as the blonde used her full name, something she never did._

_"Britt Britt." Santana breathed, smiling at the sight of the blonde. However it disappeared as soon as she saw the darkness stashed behind the usually bright blue eyes. The Latina stood, dragging herself over to the hallway near the blonde. As soon as she approached her, Brittany took a step backwards, revealing two suitcases lined up next to each other, a duffle bag lying next to it._

_"Baby, what's going on?" Santana questioned; holding her hands out towards the blonde in hope she'd feel the touch she wanted so badly._

_"I'm leaving." The blonde answered, standing rigid as she balled her fists tightly against her mid-thigh. Brittany picked up the duffle bag, swinging it over her shoulder and gripping the suitcases in each hand. She headed towards the door and placed her bags down, turning her emotionless face and looking at the Latina._

_"Wa-wha-what?" Santana shivered, the words spilling out her mouth before her knees jelly-fied._

_"I don't want to be with you anymore. I hope you'll respect my wishes."_

_In one final plea to make the blonde stay, the Latina whispered her vulnerabilities; "Ple-please don't leave me. I... I need you."_

_"No you don't." The blonde retorted, "You were born without me, you can live without me. Goodbye Santana."_

_The olive legs gave away, causing the brunette's knees to collide with the hardwood floor harshly and sending a throbbing sensation through her body. An acidic burn gurgled in the pit of her stomach, slowly creeping up her throat, grazing and scraping every skin cell and fibre. Their eyes met in one final glance, the coffee swirling with a dark grey, cold, emptiness that shaded the orbs that once gleamed so brightly._

_The blonde shut the door, disappearing from Santana's eyesight. It felt like sucker punched her, winding her permanently. A wound formed in her heart, like a huge gaping hole - leaving the fire-fighter weak and vulnerable. She was completely lifeless, kneeling on the cold floor of her apartment just falling apart._

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about the update, but it needed to be done to fit in with the rest of the story... Not really a spoiler but a hint of what's to come!<strong>


	5. five

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Five<strong>

The Latina awoke startled; her arm stretched above her head, clinging onto the wooden headboard like she was clinging on for dear life. She squinted open her eyes, revealing her dark brown orbs. Fresh waves of pain lapped over the Latina, dragging her under the ocean of sadness - preventing her from resurfacing.

Even the copious amounts of air she was currently trying to gulp, it was if she was being smothered by her emotions. Every time she blinked; the precise colour of her eyes, the feel of her silky smooth skin, and the texture of her soft voice flashed, causing a rippling pain to shoot through her brain.

The last eight months had been painful, but they'd allowed the Latina's memories of the blonde to disintegrate slightly, easing the pain. But seeing the dancer last night, holding her in her arms and saving the one thing that could cause her to be the happiest and saddest she could ever be, repeatedly stung her heart. Like a wasp, attacking its prey over and over again to make sure it's suffering.

To this day, the words still echoed her brain, wracking heavily against the walls of her most active organ. The loneliness set in, vibrating the Latina's very core. She flipped over to her side, glancing at the clock;** 3.42am. **She couldn't stand it any longer, being alone. So in a flash, she was dressed and out the door - heading down the street, with no specific direction.

* * *

><p>"Quinn. Quinn!" Rachel shook the sleeping blondes frame hastily. "Quinn, there's someone at the door."<p>

The blondes eyes cracked open slightly, the sleep weighing down on her eyelids heavily - her body's way of telling her to go back to sleep. She felt fingers gently hook themselves into her pyjama bottoms and tug down slightly, index finger tracing over the damp lacy lingerie Quinn was wearing. Her eyes snapped open immediately and Rachel grunted;

"I knew that would wake you up. Now go and check the door." Quinn mirrored the noise, and slid out of bed reluctantly. She grasped the baseball bat stored behind the front door, just in case of emergencies. _Hey, it's New York, you never know_, she thought.

"Who is it?" She asked, swinging the bat behind her head so it was at the ready. There was a slight hesitation before the voice behind the door answered;

"Santana." Quinn let out a heavy sigh, throwing the bat onto the sofa behind her and unlocking the door before revealing a broken brunette. The Latina sank into the blondes arms, embracing her. They stood still for a few minutes, before Santana spoke;

"Sorry. I can't be alone at the moment." She said, sniffing and wiping the tear drop of the end of her nose with the back of her hand.

"It's fine Lopez, you can have the spare room." The blonde gestured down the hall and the Latina smiled.

"But I've gotta go to sleep, I'm about to crash. If you need anything you know where it is, but come to me if not. You know the drill." The Latina headed down the hallway to the spare room. Just as she was about to enter, she turned around to meet Quinn's glare;

"Thanks Q. You really are an amazing friend." And she entered; closing the door quietly behind her.

Quinn went back to her bedroom, greeting a very sleepy brunette lying on her bed, legs and arms sprawled out everywhere.

"Move over Berry. You don't get to wake me up and then jack my spot." She mumbled, throwing herself down on the open space near her girlfriend.

* * *

><p>Santana woke up the next morning feeling slightly more relieved than the night before. The fresh smell of waffles flowed into the room, invading the Latina's nostrils - it was familiar, like the ones Brittany used to make.<p>

Instead of letting her thoughts get her down, she decided to throw on some sweat pants and a tank top before heading towards the kitchen. She walked in to find Rachel licking whipped cream off Quinn's lips.

"Guys, please. I have to eat before I throw up." Santana commented, wagging her eyebrows once.

"Sorry Santana." Rachel murmured, handing the blonde a napkin to wipe the rest off with it.

"We cooked you breakfast, waffles." Quinn smiled, nudging Rachel to give them to the Latina.

"Um, thanks guys. Sorry about last night, I just..." She sighed, knowing the only way she could explain was if she showed her weak side, "I just didn't wanna be alone."

Rachel smiled and grabbed a fork from one of the drawers before handing it to the Latina.

"It's cool. You can stay here as long as you want San, you know that." She added, before settling back into Quinn's arms as they wrapped around her waist.

"Thanks." Santana muttered as she basically inhaled her food, she'd realised she hadn't eaten for a while and the waffles were just really damn good.

"Actually, we have something to tell you Santana..." Quinn mentioned after Rachel, in a failed attempt to be subtle, widened her eyes and shook her head vigorously. "Brittany was discharged this morning from hospital; apparently there was just some minor lung damage."

Santana acted like she didn't care, when really it was the thought had been running through her mind.

"She knocked on the door this morning..." The diva added, stepping forward with an apologetic smile on her face.

"So? I don't give a fuck what she does anymore." The Latina spat almost too quickly, along with a crumb or two. A sudden strong aroma that masked the waffle scent impacted her nostrils. Her heart faltered slightly at the waft and whipped her head round to find a leggy blonde standing awkwardly in the door way. Brittany. It caused the olive beauty's heart to temporarily stop beating as she coughed erratically at the waffle lodging in her airways.

"We didn't know if we should've woken you or not." Quinn added, stepping forward to the Latina who was staring doe-eyed at the dancer standing in the doorway.

Santana eyed the outfit she was wearing and realised they were basically wearing the same thing, just opposite colours. Grey sweat pants and black tank top for the Latina, black sweat pants and a grey tank top for the blonde. _Fucking perfect._ She uttered to herself. After staying silent for a few heartbeats, she removed her gaze from Brittany and stared at Quinn.

"I've gotta get ready. Need to be at work soon." She urged, pushing her plate aside and near-sprinting to the spare bedroom, brushing the blonde slightly as she did so. As soon as she entered the bedroom she slid down the door, clutching her chest as the throb beat harder than ever before.

Brittany exited the shower, changing quickly into sweatpants and tank top before tip-toeing out into the hallway. She'd heard voices as she changed and knew the Latina was up.

"Brittany was discharged this morning from hospital, apparently just some minor lung damage." Quinn said, her voice edgy as she mentioned her name.

The scrapes of a knife and fork sounded louder from ever before in the awkward silence that followed the statement.

"She knocked on the door this morning." Rachel added, just as Brittany decided to make herself known. She smoothed down her tank top and sweats and took a step into the doorway.

"So? I don't give a fuck what she does anymore." The words stabbed straight to her heart, twisting and turning through the arteries and muscles contracting viciously in reaction.

Brittany lowered her shoulders, clenching her jaw and holding in the tears that were trying to push through her tear ducts. Her hands twiddled together as she tried to think of her next move, _run or stay? _Instead, she pushed a toothy grin to cover her face, hiding the pain.

"We didn't know if we should've woken you or not." Quinn added, breaking the intense awkwardness that hovered in the kitchen area.

She took a step forward in an apologetic glide as if the Latina was about to collapse in that moment. Brittany looked at Santana's outfit and realised they were wearing the same clothing, colour reversed and giggled internally. _It was so them._

"I've gotta get ready. Need to be at work soon." Santana coughed; her plate sliding across the counter.

Brittany flinched as the Latina brushed passed her, causing goose bumps to form all over her body. The door shut heavily and the awkward silence returned, along with the stare of Rachel and Quinn.

"She doesn't have work until three." Brittany added, her eyes diverting to the floor as a single tear trailed its way down her creamy cheek.

* * *

><p>Rachel turned to Quinn, mentally asking her what to do as Brittany started sobbing silently.<p>

"You know Santana, she needs space B, and maybe you do too. Eight months apart and then meeting three times in the space of 24 hours isn't exactly easy for her." Rachel murmured, taking a few steps towards the dancer and embracing her in a comforting hug.

"It's not easy for me either." Brittany added, resting her temple against the brunette's hair.

A scoff sounded from the corner as Quinn crossed her arms and glared at the taller blonde, muttering something under her breath that slightly sounded like _well you left her_.

Quinn shook her head and turned to clear up the remnants of Santana's breakfast, as well as the cutlery used. She busied about and half an hour later - the Latina made an appearance, her hair damp as it draped across her shoulders. She coughed, causing the three women sitting in the living room to flicker their gaze to her.

"Seeing as you don't have a home anymore. You stay at the apartment; I'll stay here with Q and Berry." The Latina said bluntly, not meeting the piercing blue eyes that seeked hers so badly.

"I couldn't do that San...tana." Brittany replied, not using her nickname in case it started something she didn't want to go through. A forced grin pasted her face, not allowing the Latina see how she really felt.

"No. You'll stay there. I've got some stuff here anyway." Santana retorted; grabbing her keys on the sofa as she headed towards the door. "Gotta shoot, bye." And the door shut, leaving the three women alone in the apartment.

"Bye San." Brittany breathed out, almost instinctively.

"There we go then. Sorted, you'll stay at your apartment. No, old apartment. Santana's apartment..." Rachel stuttered, adding a forced smile as she tried to lighten the intense atmosphere.

"Yeah. I still have some clothes there anyway." Britt added, wiping away a single tear from the corner of her eye.

"As long as she didn't chuck them out." Q snorted, getting up from the couch and taking the empty coffee mugs that stood on the side table.

Brittany's heart cracked silently as she imagined Santana throwing out her clothes in a teary mess. And that thought broke her heart in a way she thought wasn't possible.

* * *

><p>"She was fucking smiling Matt." Santana spat, throwing a file of paper down on her desk. "Fucking smiling. Good to know she's suffering just as much as I am."<p>

"Wow sarcastic Santana is scary." The dark man added, sniffing in a laugh.

"How is that funny Rutherford?" Santana scowled; narrowing her eyes at the taller man who was currently backing away towards the door.

"S'not." He muttered quickly, realising his giggle probably wasn't the best thing to do in front of an angry Santana Lopez. An awkward silence crept into the room as the Latina was still staring at Matt, who was halfway in and out her office.

"Yeah well when a heart breaks, it doesn't break even Matt. I'm the one falling to pieces whilst she's grinning away in that cheery fucking manor she always did. She's okay. I'm not. That's just how it ended up."

"You know just because she's smiling, doesn't mean she doesn't feel the same as you." Matt's voice broke at the end of the sentence, immediately regretting his words. Santana's eyes welled up, but she dipped her gaze to the papers in front of her before curling her upper lip into a snarl.

"I-I-I better go." Matt stuttered, closing the door slowly.

Santana felt the anger that bubbled in her stomach decrease as the cause disappeared. She swung her legs up onto the desk, which were covered in navy blue jeans. When she wasn't on call, her usual attire consisted of a t-shirt that sported the 'Fire Department City of New York' badge with FDNY printed underneath. Usually she chose lighter colours like a red, grey or white, but today she was wearing black version.

However in some ways, it was an advantage that the t-shirts came in different colours, because her colleagues knew her mood depending on the colour she'd chosen. If it was black, it meant a mood Santana, or in other words stay-the-fuck-outta-my-way. White usually meant happy, red was emotional and grey was neutral. However some of the time the neutral would later be traded for a black one.

The words that exited her mouth reminded her of a song her and Brittany had once loved. Flipping open her laptop, she searched for the song on YouTube before sticking in her headphones and clicking the play button. Danny O'Donoghue certainly knew his stuff; his lyrics were the ones of a man who'd experienced heartbreak - probably multiple times.

_What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?  
>What am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay?<br>I'm falling to pieces.  
>I'm falling to pieces.<em>

"Fucking paperwork." Santana breathed to herself, in attempt to turn the heartbreak into anger as the lyrics flowed through her brain.

She loved her job, she wouldn't want to do anything else - but the only thing she hated was after the intense action and real fire fighting stuff, came shit loads of paperwork. Something she didn't look forward too.

_You got his heart and my heart and none of the pain,  
>You took your suitcase, I took the blame.<br>Now I'm tryna make sense of what little remains, oh.  
>'Coz you left me with no love, with no love to my name.<em>

However the sobs could not be hidden for long and in the eerie silence of her office - she let them fall.

* * *

><p>A few days went past relatively quickly, and before she knew it, the weekend had come. She'd been living with Quinn and Rachel for five days - and was already at the end of her tether as she heard the loud, sexual noises that came from their room most nights.<p>

"Santana." Rachel said, leaving the bedroom in skimpy pyjamas. The Latina sat on the bar stool at the kitchen island, spooning several lumps of cereal into her mouth. At the first sight of the diva, she rolled her eyes knowing the reaction this outfit would have on her hazel-eyed best friend.

Only a few moments later, Quinn exited, looking slightly flushed and sporting what the Latina only knew too well to be 'sex-hair'. A scoff sounded from the olive skinned beauty's mouth and the bouncing blonde shot her a scowl, causing a smirk to paste the Latina's face.

"Santana, I actually had something to ask you." Rachel asked, threading her fingers with the blonde as she parted from the chaste kiss Santana had just witnessed.

"Tomorrow is our anniversary, and we're spending it... here."

Santana choked on the mouthful, knowing that was more sex than she'd like to hear.

"I'm out. Actually, yes." Santana nodded to herself, knowing she'd like to be as far away as possible from the happy couple.

"We know you're not. But we've actually already sorted out sleeping arrangements for you." Quinn added, her eyes darting to the floor.

"And what would those be exactly?" The Latina questioned, slightly wary of the fact that now the two women standing in front of her looked nervous.

"Well um... Actually you're going to stay at your old apartment."

The silence slapped Santana straight round the face. She stood completely still knowing that she may have to spend more time with the person she so badly wanted too but shouldn't.

"Brittany's out." Rachel added, leaving a wash of relief to crash into Santana. However that wasn't what her eyes were shaded with; something Quinn recognised to be disappointment.

Santana left for work shortly after the announcement of her whereabouts for the next night, and as soon as the door shut - Quinn turned to Rachel.

"You've seriously got to tell me you saw that." The diva urged, tugging slightly on the blondes wrists.

"Hell yeah I did. Our plan might actually work." She answered, smirking evilly at the smaller girl.

"Ahh I'm so excited!" Rachel added, leaning in towards the blonde, bobbing up and down on the heels of her feet.

"Ditto baby."

Quinn leant forward, closing the space and pressing her lips to the brunette's soft lips, sliding her tongue over her bottom lip slowly. The couple pulled away and smiled at each other, knowing there was some hope. What they weren't aware of was the Latina leaning against the front door, listening to their conversation.

"Plan? What the fuck?" She whispered to herself, twisting the doorknob so the door shut without a sound.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please, still debating where to take this.<strong>

**Thanks to The Script - Breakeven, as inspiration for this chapter. And major love for the lyrics!**


	6. six

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Six<strong>

Quinn and Rachel's anniversary came around a lot quicker than Santana hoped for. The meaning behind Quinn's words still racked her brain. _Plan? What plan?_ Her stomach twisted and turned uncomfortably every time those words repeated.

It was only too soon that she was standing outside her old apartment, hovering nervously as she slid the key into the lock - creating the all too familiar sound. As the door swung open she was immediately greeted by the heart-wrenching aroma she loved and missed all-too-badly.

"Hello?" She said; a sharp object stabbed through her heart as it brought back agonising thoughts. It's always those random flashbacks which bring back the most painful memories; they always find a way of breaking your heart all over again - even when you thought it was impossible.

Silence answered her; everything was still as she stood in the doorway of the dark apartment. The only light illuminating the room was the dim one shining in from behind in the corridor. As she slammed a door, something else crashed into her chest, almost knocking her to the floor as her mind raced with memories...

* * *

><p><em>The thud bounced around the room, Santana, still kneeling on the cold floor was panting heavily. Her heart felt like it was about to jump through her chest - and that's when her brain kicked in.<em>

Fight for her.

_"BRITTANY!" She yelled, throwing herself towards the door and yanking it open. A flash of blonde hair disappeared into the elevator and a ding rung down the corridor. Before she could think about her next movements, her legs were already running down the fire escape stairs, just outside the window by the front door._

_Her breathing became heavier as the rope around her lungs constricted further. Her body was struggling to breathe but it didn't stop as she sprinted into the foyer where Brittany stood completely still, clutching her bags as she'd exited the elevator._

_"Please don't do this. Don't leave." Santana cried, sinking to her knees in front of the blonde._

_"Santana. Stop." She said coldly, her blue eyes empty as the gazed down to the broken Latina begging her to stay._

_"No, please. Bri-Britt." Santana whimpered, her hands fisting as she bunched the bottoms of Brittany's jeans._

_"Let go of me. Now." She demanded, taking a step back to release Santana's grip._

_"Brittany." The Latina breathed, looking up into the ocean-blue orbs and seeing nothing._

_No love, no happiness, no sadness. She didn't break the gaze as Brittany bent down slightly, placing both suitcases on the floor beside her legs. Straightening up, her body went rigid once more and she broke the eye contact, staring ahead. _

_The Latina watched the blondes jaw clench, and any trace of sympathy empty from her eyes. Another feeling bubbled in the pit of Santana's stomach at this sight, something she recognised to be anger._

_"Santana..." Brittany said, her fists clenching so the whites were showing through her knuckles. The brunette began to rise, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand in the process. After a large, but needed, sniff Santana stood straight in front of the blonde._

_"Let me go." The blonde added, turning her head slightly to look into the dark brown eyes she once loved._

_"If you had even the slightest idea of how much you mean to me, you wouldn't be doing this right now."_

_Santana hissed, raising her upper lip into a small snarl. She watched for a reaction, but all she saw was a blank expression on the blondes face. And at that moment, the gape in Santana's heart widened, throbbing at the stretch._

_"But there's no point in explaining if you won't care." The Latina added, trying to get anything out of the blonde standing in front of her._

_She watched as the Brittany dismissed her words mentally, not even taking note of the agonising pain that Santana was currently battling. The high school Latina decided to take over Santana's body, as the other was too broken to even speak. It whispered to her as she felt the change;_

Act like you don't care. Do it.

_The broken side of the Latina replied; trying to fight what Brittany had spent so many years changing;_

But you do care, a lot. Don't pretend not too. Don't go back to being what you were before.

_The brunette stood in the middle of the foyer, still watching the blonde standing completely still with her as her brain battled with herself. She wished she could read Brittany's mind, it was almost unbearable how much she wanted to know exactly what she was thinking. _

_But then it hit her, her stomach dropped at the realisation and her legs turned to jelly again. However this time she managed to keep herself up._

She doesn't love you anymore.

_Santana's heart cringed at the thought; the gashes that were left by Brittany's words repeated themselves. They lined up perfectly along her fragile organ, like she'd done them herself. The lacerations stung, the wounds strained themselves as the emotional torture set in._

_What felt like minutes later, was only a few seconds. The beautiful blonde was still standing motionless looking away from the brunette._

_"Fine. Just go. Just fucking leave." Santana spat, acknowledging her teenage self-occupying her body._

_Brittany didn't even turn to look at Santana as she picked up her bags and exited the building. The Latina trudged back up the stairs, ignoring the open elevator waiting for her and she approached her apartment - wincing at the smell that still radiated from it._

_She sobbed heavily as the entered, examining the vacant space that lay in front of her. Taking a few steps in, she breathed out her name._

_"Brittany."_

_Silence answered her; everything was still as she stood in the doorway of the dark apartment. The only light illuminating the room was the dim one shining in from behind in the corridor._

* * *

><p>A thud woke her from her trance; she turned slightly to see the door vibrate as someone knocked on it. She took a few steps towards it, hesitating momentarily as she smoothed out her hair and opened it.<p>

"Puck." She smiled, greeting the handsome figure that stood behind the door.

She'd completely forgotten about asking him to come over in her depressive stance earlier that day. Her phone felt heavy in her pocket as she remembered the slightly depressing texts she'd sent him.

"Hey gorgeous. Drink?" He waved a six pack of beers in front of her face, before stepping in beside her.

"Nice place you got here." Puck said, studying the place. "Bit dark though."

Santana laughed, switching on the light as she moved towards the large couch that sat in the middle of the room. He grabbed two beers and threw one to Santana, plopping himself down on the couch next to her.

"So, what's up? You seemed down in your texts?" He asked, swigging his beer heavily. She mimicked his glug before turning to him;

"Sorry, I didn't wanna be alone tonight. You know my friends that were with me at the club that night?"

He nodded, so Santana continued, "It's their anniversary. I've been living with them for a while... due to," She paused, thinking of an excuse, "Difficult circumstances."

"Oh right, so who's place we at?" His eyes widened as he glanced around the room slightly worried.

"No no. It is mine, well half mine. I lived with someone, and we um," She coughed, holding back the tears, "Broke up." The words snatched at her throat, causing her breath to hitch.

"D'you need me to pummel the guy?" He joked, gulping his beer again.

"No." The Latina answered, a little too quickly for Puck's liking.

"Whoah sorry. Anyway continue." He gestured with his hand, gliding it in front of his chest towards the brunette.

"Well yeah it's my friends anniversary, so I left them for tonight for alone time. But recently my ex-roommate recently lost their apartment..."

Santana dodged the lesbian bomb, replacing 'her' with a 'their'.

"... So I moved in with Quinn and Rachel, and they took this apartment for a bit, until they get back onto their feet." She finished, taking a swig of her beer and watching Puck's facial expression.

"Their? They? What's up with the dude? He got a vagina or something?" He laughed, watching Santana's eyes fall to the fabric of the sofa in between them.

"Oh. Shit, you were with a tranny?" He said, realising his mistake.

"Actually, I'm gay. I lived here with my girlfriend. Her name's Brittany." Santana replied, the wrench yanking heavily at her heart as the last word slipped through her mouth, leaving a sour taste on her tongue.

Puck chuckled at the statement, bending over slightly as his rough laugh boomed throughout the room.

"Shiiit. I slept with a lesbo. Niiiiice." He said, taking Santana completely by surprise. "To be honest, I kind of thought that when I saw you. But then you flirted with me so I thought, hey maybe she's bi."

Santana sat there, completely dumbfounded. Her mouth popped into an 'o' shape as he spoke. Never in her right mind would she thought he'd be cool with it.

"Wha... What?" She questioned, furrowing her eyebrows at the tanned man sitting in front of her.

"Just saying it's pretty cool. Never done it before, well obviously." He laughed, throwing the beer bottle into the little bin beside the sofa before opening another with his teeth.

"Well shit. That was slightly unexpected." Santana said, her eyes still wide as she turned to sip her beer.

"So, can I be like your lesbro or something?" He asked, eyeing up the Latina whose tanned legs were showing black short shorts.

"Well if you stop eye fucking the shit outta me, and explain what the hell a 'lesbo' is, and then I'll consider it."

"It's the male equivalent of a 'fag hag'. Y'know... a guy who's friends with a lesbian. Usually with the intent of seducing them. But considering I've already done the second, we're halfway there. "He winked, not removing his gaze from Santana's legs.

"Well you can be. Still with the terms that you stop eyeing me up. But I guess that's cool with me."

"Yessss." He murmured, longing out the last syllable. "Now, the game's on. Hush up."

Santana was still a little shocked as she leant into the side of Puck's muscular figure. The cheering and sound of the commentator filled the once-silent room.

* * *

><p>The game finished up, the Cincinnati Bengals losing 27-7 against the NY Jets. Santana cheered as she supported the winning team, Puck however looked slightly glum at the huge loss.<p>

"Never would've taken you to be a Bengals fan." Santana said as she cracked open another beer.

"Well I grew up in Cincinnati, loyal follower I am." He said in a slightly cockney accent as he pounded his chest with his right fist.

"Loyal loser more like." Santana joked, receiving a light jab in the arm from Puck.

"So what happened? With you and Brittany?" Puck asked, turning his attention to the brunette.

Santana literally felt her heart snap into even more pieces as her name rolled off his tongue. Her eyes darted to the floor and she sucked in a gulp of air, feeling the restrictions on her lungs tighten. Saying her name still crushed her, even after all this time.

"Sorry, don't answer that. I didn't mean to upset you." He urged, finishing off the final bit in the bottom of the beer bottle.

"In all honesty, I don't really know." Santana started, and carried on telling the story from the start to current day. After a few tears and encouraging hugs from Puck - she finished.

"Whoah." The only words that could come from Puck's mouth, a giggle erupted from the pit of Santana's stomach as she witnessed how gobsmacked he was. She fiddled with the label on the beer bottle she clutched as Puck processed the story.

"It's kinda fucked up isn't it? How all of a sudden, someone just wakes up and decides they don't love you anymore. No reason. No explanation. They just leave you hanging like you never meant shit to them. And what hurts the most is how they make it look so fucking easy." Puck announced, sending guilt through Santana's body as she watched the usually cheery man's face turn into a sad smile, like he was restraining tears.

"Shit, who knew you had a heart." Santana joked, in any attempt to lighten the mood.

"Fuck off Lopez." He giggled, pushing Santana back onto the sofa and assaulting her with tickles.

The Latina wriggled about on the sofa, screaming under her lesbro's touch. Puck's lower body pushed heavily into Santana and his upper body still fixated on torturing the Latina with his furious fingers. But suddenly he stopped and stared at Santana with eyes wide, he looked genuinely scared as a new light entered the room.

"Oh. Sorry." Brittany said, standing idly at the door watching the two as they lay, pressed together tightly on the sofa.

Puck's immediate movement was to stand up, but Santana hugged him closer, asking him to stay with her body movement.

"Rachel said you'd be out for the evening." Santana uttered, her body pushing upwards so Puck sat down, with her back pressed against his side. Brittany watched as his arm draped over her shoulder and hung over her lap.

"Yeah. The plans kinda went wrong so I thought I'd come hom-back here." She said, watching Puck's arm intently.

Santana noticed her almost slip up and grasped Puck's hand, it wasn't a plan to get Brittany jealous, it was just a protection thing. She was asking him to stay silently; he acknowledged the plea, knowing she couldn't be alone with the blonde.

An awkward silence crept into the room as she didn't know what to say, Puck however took the lead.

"You must be Brittany? I'm Puck." He said, standing up and placing a hand out in offer to shake the blondes.

Brittany darted her eyes between Santana's and Puck's, before settling on the familiar coffee ones.

"Yeah, nice to meet you Puck. You're..." She flickered her blue eyes to Pucks, asking his relationship to Santana."

"My friend." Santana finished, standing up and closing in to Puck's side and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Right. Well, um I'll go." Brittany said, watching the arm snake around the muscular waist of the man standing in front of her.

"Actually, hate to ruin the awkward party but I got a shift in ten. So I've gotta go." Puck interjected, releasing Santana and grabbing his coat that slung over the back of the sofa.

"Okay babe." The Latina said, following Puck as he walked towards the door. Brittany moved, wandering into the kitchen and fiddling with something. The tanned man leant in towards Santana, pressing his cheek to Santana's and whispering in her ear.

"Jealousy's a bitch."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, before squeezing her hand and exiting the apartment. Santana's brows furrowed as she leant against the door, watching Puck walk down the hallway.

"What?" She whispered to herself, feeling the itch in the back of her head she only knew to be Brittany's stare. She coughed and closed the door, returning to the sofa and flicking on the highlights of the game.

Only minutes later, the blonde wandered into the room, sitting on the arm chair across from the sofa.

"So, who's he?" She asked, concentrating on her nails which had now become very interesting.

"Puck." Santana answered mockingly. She saw out the corner of her eye Brittany narrowing her gaze.

"You know what I mean."

"A friend."

Brittany flickered her gaze to the Latina who looked engorged with the TV screen. She studied the Latina's face, her naturally pouty lips that could work wonders, her defined cheekbones that framed her gorgeous face.

She watched as Santana cheered at something on the screen, her face lighting up into a smile as the football commentator announced the Jets win again. It sent Brittany into a whirlwind of memories...

* * *

><p><em>"Baby, I'm home." Brittany muttered, throwing her keys onto the side table and leaning over the back of the couch to massage the Latina's shoulders, covered by a Jet's jersey.<em>

_"Heyyy." Santana replied, tipping her head back and sliding her arms above her to reach the top of the blonde's arms, pulling her down closer. She pressed her lips to the blondes lightly; electricity flowed at the touch, which ended all too quickly._

_"Who's playing?" Brittany murmured, pulling away and returning to the massage._

_"Jets and Dallas Cowboys. Don't change the subject, I wasn't finished." She answered quickly, pulling Brittany back down and kissing her again. Brittany smiled into the kiss as Santana ran her tongue along the blonde's upper lip, demanding entrance. However Brittany pulled away and giggled;_

_"You're gonna miss the game." She muttered into the brunettes lips._

_"Fuck the game." Santana replied, kissing the blonde passionately once more. Santana loved kissing Brittany; it was one of the best things in the world._

_The feel of Brittany's soft lips against her own, their tongues slipping and sliding over each other, massaging simultaneously. The way the blonde tasted even minutes after parting the kiss, and the tingle she got which yearned for more of the blondes kisses._

_"You've been going on about this game for ages. You're gonna watch it."_

_Brittany said firmly, standing up straight and turning away. Santana raised herself slightly, reaching over the back of the sofa. She gripped the blonde's waist with her hands and hauled her over the back of the sofa into her lap. _

_Brittany giggled repeatedly as the Latina ravaged the skin on her neck with kisses, little sucks and gentle nips. However the screen caught her attention and she cheered, before face-palming the fabric of the sofa as Brittany stood up._

_"See. Now c'mon, I'll get you another beer and you're gonna watch that damn game." The blonde muttered, heading towards the kitchen - taking a sneaky peak at the way Santana's face lit up as the Jets scored. _

_As she headed backwards, she handed the beer to the brunette who was grateful and smiled lovingly._

_"I'm tired; I'm going to sleep now. Night honey." Brittany said, kissing Santana's forehead and heading towards the bedroom._

_"Oh you're not getting away that easily." The Latina said, getting up from the sofa and following. Brittany giggled as she turned to see the brunette chasing her down the hall with a seductive grin pasted on her face. Brittany definitely didn't go to sleep for the next few hours._

* * *

><p>The blonde smiled sadly at the memory, remembering how important football was to the Latina. Santana turned to watch the smile fade from her ex-girlfriends face and it hurt her, watching the blonde so sad.<p>

But anger took over her body - _it's not your fault. Stop feeling guilty. She did this to you._ The Latina thought to herself, pushing up and standing awkwardly in front of the sofa.

"I'm going to bed." She said, heading towards the spare room across the hall from her old bedroom. Just as she turned to enter, she heard Brittany call.

"Santana?" Hearing Brittany say her name left her speechless, she shuddered still shot down her spine, but it wasn't out of love, it was out of pain, anger and bitterness.

However, she knew she was still head over heels in love with that blonde who stamped on her heart. Brittany wandered over, standing at the opposite end of the hallway, so at least 3 metres was in between them.

"Can we talk?" She asked, biting her bottom lip nervously. Santana flared up instantly, knowing she'd regret her words later on.

"Oh so now you want to talk? How lovely of you. You just left me hanging Brittany. Like what am I supposed to say? I said everything already, and you had nothing in reply." Santana spat, her fist clenching harshly against the top of her thigh. However, curiosity still ran through her;

"What is there even left to say?" She added, wanting to know what was running through Brittany's mind.

"I just... I." Brittany stuttered, leaving an awkward silence to hang in the air.

"Exactly Britt. You made me talk about things I've never told anybody, and then you left. Do you even realise how much you hurt me?" Santana took a step forward unknowingly, thrusting her finger to her chest as she spoke.

Brittany looked up, meeting the teary gaze of the Latina - which mirrored on her own face.

"I didn't like seeing you with Puck." She stated truthfully, her eyes diverting to the very interesting floorboards.

It took the olive beauty by surprise, and left her standing looking shell-shocked. Only then did she realise what Puck had meant, Brittany thought they were together - she was jealous. A giggle almost escaped her mouth, but then she realised the truth behind Brittany's words.

"Right. So you don't want to be with me, but you don't want me to be with someone else. How miserable do I have to be before you're fucking happy?" Santana hissed, putting a scowl on her face. Brittany opened her mouth several times as if she was about to say something, but the brunette couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Save it Britt." She yelled, grabbing her coat and slamming the door as hard as she could on the way out.

Being too impatient for the elevator, she stormed down the stairs and out to the only place she knew she could speak to someone and get horridly drunk at the same time - Elements.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please. I think I'm gonna carry this on, but it won't be too long. Hope you liked this chapter!<strong>


	7. seven

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Seven<strong>

"Hey! Lopez!" Puck exclaimed, greeting the brunette as she slumbered over to the bar where he was standing.

"What's up with you? I only left an hour ago, can't get enough of Puckerman can we?" He added, snorting at his own comment.

"Actually I had a fight with Britt. Double vodka on the rocks." She demanded, tapping impatiently on the hard top of the bar.

"Why are you doing this? It's not gonna help." He replied, spinning round and sliding a small tumbler glass to the brunette.

"I'm feeling the need to do some drinking, well actually no. That's a lie. I feel the need to do some crying, but since I'm too proud and I'm pretty sure my tear ducts are now shrivelled and useless, I'm just gonna do some intense liquor drinking. That cool with you Puckerman?" She retorted glugging the contents of the glass down in one swift movement.

Santana felt the burn as the alcohol stung the skin cells at the back of her throat. It gurgled in her empty stomach, mixing with the acidic liquid and causing bile to rise up and scorch her insides. She winced at the pain, but demanded another. Puck reluctantly agreed, filling up another tumbler with a double vodka shot, which she chucked back in only a few seconds.

An hour later, Santana was swaying on her stool - her head swimming with alcohol.

"Puuuuuuckkkk." The Latina slurred, banging her glass down on the bar top, demanding another one.

"I think you've had enough Lopez." He replied, rubbing several glasses with a bar rag.

"Noooo, I wantsss another draaank."

"You can't drink your sorrows away Santana." Puck said, furrowing his eyebrows and narrowing his eyes so he had a slightly disgusted expression on his face. "It doesn't work like that."

Santana lowered her head in shame, glancing up to look into Puck's hazel/green eyes once more before starting to sob. The tears seeped out the corner of her eyes, dripping off her face and creating small raindrops on the counter top.

"Hey, stop that - you're staining my bar." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Feeling slightly bad, Puck walked out and round the bar to comfort the sobbing Latina.

"C'mon, it's just the alcohol. Man up." He squeezed her in a little hug, before grabbing her by the waist and standing her up. She swayed in her stance, grappling onto the muscular figure of Puck as support.

"Whys is it that as soonsss as we really startt to get overs someone, theyyy have a ways of showingss up?" She mumbled, pressing her forehead to Puck's shoulder as her head got too heavy to hold up.

"Because life's a bitch. It's time to get you home." He replied, leaning Santana's frame against the bar as he switched off the lights.

"Shiiiits, whens did everywahh go ho-ho-home." She giggled at her own pathetic attempt to be funny. "Wowza, that was la-hayyyme."

"It's 4am dude, seriously." The bartender said firmly, dragging Santana out the bar and into his 1964 Ford Mustang.

"Niicee carr Puckerrmannn." She slurred, laying her head down on the headrest before allowing the drunken darkness to take her away into dreamland.

* * *

><p>Santana blinked furiously, but her eyelids refused to open. Her brain was awake, along with her ears - but she was temporarily blinded. Before attempting to yank open her eyelids once more, she heard two voices speak.<p>

"Sorry. She's really drunk, she told me what happened earlier - I didn't know what to do. But she's out like a light, so you don't have to worry." A masculine voice said, probably Puck.

"It's fine. She's staying here tonight anyway. I don't know why she does this..." A soft feminine voice spoke; it was so soothing that it caused goose bumps to form all over the Latina's beautiful olive skin.

"C'mon Britt, you're not stupid. I saw the way you were watching her when you walked in on us two."

There was a silence, only the sound of breathing filled the room.

"We're not together by the way." He added.

My face was no longer pressed against his warm, vibrating chest; instead it was lying down on a soft fabric, the silky sheets brushing over my skin. The aroma that flowed off the sheets intoxicated Santana; the vanillary/honey scent filled her lungs and throttled her already strangled lungs. The pain tugged at her heart, causing another gash to form on her scarred soul.

"Oh." Santana detected relief in Brittany's voice. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway."

"Jesus, you're both as bad as each other." Puck muttered, his voice faded off and Santana realised she was alone in the room.

Only a few minutes later the sound of the front door closing rang out through the apartment and Santana realised she was now alone with Brittany once again.

A dip in the side of the bed notified the Latina that Brittany was sitting on the side of the bed. She could feel the hole forming in the back of her head as the blonde burned her with her gaze.

She stayed silent for what seemed like forever. Santana flinched internally as the feel of Brittany's fingertips grazed gently over the skin that was exposed just below the Latina's tight fitting blank top.

"I miss you Santana, it feels like forever since I saw you. Even though you're lying next to me I don't feel your presence like I used too. I want to see the Santana I knew, I want you to hug me and tell me everything's going to be fine. I can't even put into words how much I actually miss you right now."

The blonde whispered, leaning down closer towards the brunette laying with her back to her. She placed a single kiss to the olive skin that was uncovered by the material on her body, and inhaled the magnificent scent she longed for. Santana held in her whimper by biting down harshly on her tongue, her lips trembled as her mind raced with the thoughts of the blondes words.

She felt warmth cover her body as Brittany draped a blanket over her trembling body, mistaking held-in sobs for lack of warmth. The Latina felt Brittany's hand glide through her brown locks of hair that splayed over the pillow behind her, before the blonde stood and headed towards the door.

Santana felt Brittany hesitate as she stood by the door, shifting slightly and debating whether to blurt out anything more. Instead, she just let the words linger in the air as she closed the door quietly - leaving the brunette to sob heavily into her pillow.

The piece of skin where Brittany had pressed her lips to tingled, allowing the ghost of her lips to enter her mind and send her off to a painfully dreamy sleep...

* * *

><p><em>"Britt Britt! Come on! I wants to get my sleeps on!" Santana yelled.<em>

_She was 16 again, waiting impatiently for her beautiful blonde best friend to exit the bathroom and climb into bed with her. Santana loved going to sleep when Brittany was over, she got to feel close to the blonde, and she heard the acceleration of her best friend's heart as her body pressed against her own. _

_She loved the feeling of Brittany's stomach muscles tense as Santana slid her hand over it, pushing them closer together. But she hated the fact that being so close to her best friend made her heart flutter, and gave her the huge urge to press her lips to the soft ones she longed for._

_Santana's daydream was suddenly interrupted as the bathroom door cracked open, revealing a leggy blonde walking into the room with a huge grin. She was covered by a one-size-too-small white tank top and bright yellow short shorts._

_Brittany bounced over to the bed, sliding under the covers and cuddling against the Latina's side. Santana shuffled so she was on her side, facing the blonde who was also on her side. They stared at each other, but Brittany had a pout on her face._

_"Why did you move? I was comfy." She stated, furrowing her eyebrows in disappointment._

_"I wanted to look at you. You're cute when you're sleep." Santana answered, kissing her finger and pressing it against the blonde's nose._

_Brittany's lips curled up at the side and her nose scrunched in response. The blonde brought her hand up and grabbed the Latina's hand as she pulled it away from her face, threading their fingers together. Brittany looked down to their intertwined fingers, marvelling at how perfectly they fitted together as well as the colour contrast. _

_Santana watched her best friend look at their hands in awe and felt her heart flip several times, and butterflies form in her stomach. She lifted their hands and brushed a blonde lock of hair over Brittany's ear that hung in front of her face. _

_Their eyes met as Santana studied the dancers piercing blue eyes and perfectly white teeth that showed through a grin. Her skin was soft to the touch, silky and creamy._

_"You're beautiful Brittany." Santana's eyes widened as her thoughts came out loud. Brittany smiled adoringly at the brunette laying in front of her; she licked her lips as her eyes darted down to the Latina's luscious lips._

_Santana took a deep breath as she watched her best friends eyes flicker to her lips; she licked them in response and sighed heavily. Her fingers released from Brittany's clutch and stroked her soft skin from her temple down. _

_She leaned in, keeping her eyes locked with the blue ones staring back at her. She heard Brittany's breath hitch as they closed in, still staring._

_Santana's heartbeat quickened rapidly, her fingers trembled and she could feel her stomach flipping over and over again. Brittany's breath was hot against her lips as they were only centimetres apart, but Santana hesitated, scared her best friend wouldn't respond. _

_As if she could read her mind, Brittany leant in and closed the gap between their lips._

_Fireworks shot out of their touch, illuminating the whole room. Santana smiled into the kiss as she felt Brittany's hand run up her side, sliding onto the small of her back and pressing them closer together. _

_Brittany's lips parted slightly, washing the Latina with her sweet breath which was received by a small moan escaping her mouth. Brittany pulled away to see Santana smiling with her eyes closed, tasting the blondes sweet flavour on her lips._

_"Uh-oh-whoah. That was um..." Santana mumbled, being left speechless after the kiss._

_"Perfect." Brittany finished, nuzzling her nose against her best friends in an Eskimo kiss. Both of them sighed in unison and Santana buried her face underneath her best friend's jaw, inhaling the fragrant scent. The Latina went to sleep marvelling over the best first kiss she's ever had._

* * *

><p>The next morning Santana awoke with a huge headache, her temple throbbed and her mouth felt like she'd been chewing on cotton wool. She groaned as she sat up, feeling the blood gush around her body quicker than it usually does. Her hand immediately reacted and smacked against the side of her face, causing her to wince at the excessive throb that now escalated from her brain to her cheek.<p>

Grudgingly, she brought herself to her feet, glancing down at the tight fitting tank top she was wearing along with a pair of skinny jeans. She forced her mind to think back to the previous night, all she could recall was the burn that came with the copious amounts of vodka she consumed. Her throat echoed the memory, and burned in response - causing the brunette to flinch once more.

She walked out into the cold hallway, her arms instinctively clutching each other and stroking them for warmth. As she approached the kitchen, she almost threw herself at the glass cabinet and grabbed one, filling it up and glugging the liquid. Santana did this a few more times before putting down the glass and resting her butt against the countertop. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes scrunched as she remembered the words Brittany had whispered;

_...I miss you Santana...  
>...I want you to hug me and tell me everything's going to be fine...<br>...I can't even put into words how much I actually miss you right now..._

Her jaw clenched in response to the memory, anger flashed through her after exploding from the pit of her stomach.

"What the fuck?" She muttered to herself, her fists clenching into tight balls.

A rustling came from down the hallway, her body reacted before she could and she grabbed her coat and keys, sprinting out the doorway and leaving Brittany standing at the top of the corridor, staring at the sight.

"Mhm... Last night was amazing baby." Quinn whispered into Rachel's ear as she encircled the diva's waist, pressing a light kiss just below her earlobe.

The brunette's chest vibrated heavily as she let out an embarrassed giggle. She turned into the blondes embrace, stretching her arms up to wrap them around her girlfriend's neck.

"We should do it again some time." The brunette whispered, her lips only inches away from the blondes.

"We always have next year." Quinn winked, pressing her lips to the divas.

Just before she had the chance to deepen the kiss, they were interrupted by a Latina storming through the front door. She threw her coat down on the sofa and did the same with herself, landing in a cross-legged bundle next to it.

Quinn and Rachel exchanged a similar confused expression as they released each other from their embrace and walked towards the angry Latina.

"Um, morning?" Quinn said wearily, swaying awkwardly hand-in-hand behind the sofa. The Latina's eyes widened and she sat up straight, surprised by the couple's presence.

"Oh shit. Sorry guys. Didn't even notice you. Thought you'd still be in bed."

"It's 9am Santana. You know I can't sleep past 7, it completely messes up my morning regime."

"Yeah. Right, okay Berry." The Latina scoffed, lying back down on the sofa and throwing her arm over her head so the crook of her elbow covered her nose and eyes.

A few quiet mutters were exchanged between the couple, but the Latina didn't care enough to listen so she stayed silent. Quinn took a seat down by the olive beauty and placed her hand on her forearm, tugging slightly to reveal beautiful brown eyes.

"What happened?"

"I went out and got off my fucking face, Puck dropped me home and Brittany,"

Santana hesitated, the name of the blonde left a bitter taste inside of her mouth;

"Thought I was asleep. So when Puck put me to bed, she told me she fucking misses me and all this shit! Q I can't fucking handle that. She left me and now she's fucking with my head. There's only so much I can take Q."

The Latina sobbed heavily, her body turning so her head was in the blondes lap. Quinn stroked her hair in a comforting manor, processing the words.

"I hate her. I fucking hate her for doing this to me Quinn!" The Latina's voice broke at the end of the sentence.

She clutched her chest as if she was about to dig through her skin and rip her own heart out. The tears fell heavily against the denim of the blonde's jeans, Santana's eyes ached from squeezing them shut and she wished the pain away.

The rusty, jagged knife tore through her heart strings, ripping the weak ones that remained from the previous heart ache. Each second ticked by painfully as Quinn sad helpless, she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to find the right words to say.

"How do you stop yourself from wanting something so badly?" The Latina whimpered, pressing her fists to her eyeballs to try and restrain the tears she knew were flooding out of her.

Quinn went silent for a few seconds, thinking once again. She said the only thing she knew to be true;

"You can't."

"Rachel!" She yelled, causing the brunette to come running.

"Stay here with Santana." She murmured, the Latina completely oblivious to everything going on around her. Rachel complied and slid to where Quinn had previously been sitting, allowing the olive beauty's head to rest in her lap.

"Okay baby. What are you gonna do?" She asked quietly, darting her eyes from the fragile Latina's frame to the hazely green eyes.

"What should've been done a while ago." She answered dramatically, shutting the door on her way out. Rachel's mind raced with the possible options of what Quinn meant.

* * *

><p>A thud echoed through the eerie silence of the apartment. Brittany stood up reluctantly from the bed, where she'd been crying heavily for a solid hour. She checked her reflection in the mirror, studying the mess of blonde hair balled up messily on top of her head and swollen, puffy eyes that were evidence of her crying.<p>

Deciding she just didn't care anymore, she heaved herself towards the front door in her baggy dance t-shirt that hung off one shoulder, and tiny turquoise short shorts.

"Quinn?" She said, focusing on the interesting floor which her bare feet were playing with.

"Brittany." Quinn said firmly, clenching her jaw and glancing past the blonde into the apartment. "Can I come in?"

Brittany flickered her gaze to the smaller blonde, and stared into her eyes. Quinn noticed as Brittany's usually clear, bright eyes were shaded with a sad darkness - something she'd seen before in chocolate eyes.

Both of them sat down in an uncomfortable silence on the couch, Quinn settled with one leg underneath her and one hanging off the edge whilst Britt folded both legs underneath her so she was basically on her knees.

The smaller blonde examined her stance and realised it was a reflection of how the dancer was feeling, vulnerable, as if she was begging.

"Britt-" Quinn started, suddenly feeling sympathetic to the broken blonde sitting in front of her.

"Quinn, please let me start." Britt whispered, her voice cracking as her throat dried up due to fear. "I know I fucked up. I really do. But I really don't think I can take you yelling at me. I know you're Santana's best friend, and you're protective and that you hate me. But right now you can't hate me more than I hate myself."

"Brittany, I came here after watching Santana fall apart in my arms for like the hundredth time. She was crying, a lot. Her body was shaking in my arms and I could literally hear her heart breaking. I've seen her fall apart so many times, but something about today just felt worse. It was like she was made of glass and you shattered her."

Brittany whimpered at the image Quinn was painting in her mind.

"I didn't come here to yell at you. I just came here to ask you something; because I don't know whether I can watch you hurt her again."

The taller blonde looked up with; her lower lip trembled as her eyes filled with unshed tears. Quinn closed her eyes at the sight, trying not to feel sympathy for the girl that ripped apart her best friend's heart, but she knew she couldn't.

Her instincts led her to shuffle forwards, and take the crying girls hands in her own. Brittany sobbed heavily, looking away from the blonde towards the empty kitchen and letting out the cry.

"Qui-Quinn." The broken sob escaped her chest, along with a heavy sigh. "I-I-I know what I did was wrong, but I have my reasons. It's not what it seems. Let me explain..."

* * *

><p><strong>You know the drill - thanks! (:<strong>


	8. eight

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Eight<strong>

"That's the problem with getting attached, when they leave... you just feel lost." Santana whimpered as Berry listened intently.

"I'm not gonna even start to comprehend what you've gone through because it pains me to even think about being in the same position with Quinn." Rachel answered, stroking Santana's hair lightly.

Santana's heart cracked just that little bit more as Rachel referred to her loving relationship to her best friend - she loved seeing them happy. But it hurt knowing that she had that, that she had that once, she once had her soul mate just like Rachel currently had hers.

The agonising ache fluttered beneath the olive skin of the Latina, pin pricking every fibre in her body.

"Hello?" Another voice spoke; the Latina sat up to see Quinn standing by the door, fiddling with her keys.

"Uh..." Santana punctuated with a sniff, "Hey Q."

"Hey baby." Rachel answered, slowly pushing up off the sofa and sauntering over towards the blonde, before wrapping her arms around her waist and placing a light kiss to her cheek.

"I'm gonna go shower." Rachel added, squeezing Quinn's hand and heading towards the bathroom, armed with a towel.

Quinn shrugged off her coat, placing it down with her bag on the side table before sitting down next to Santana. They sat there as Santana waited to see if Quinn had anything to say about her quick exit.

"Really? You're not even gonna say where you went?" Santana shrugged, her palms slapping the top of the fabric sofa.

"I needed... Some tissues. We ran out and I didn't know how long you'd be crying for." Quinn answered, not meeting the chocolate brown eyes that probably suspected she was lying.

"Oh, right." The Latina shrugged, bringing her legs up in front of her and hugging them tightly. Santana pondered the real reason why her best friend decided to run out on her, leaving her to cry in the dwarf length arms of Rachel Berry, but didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day went relatively slowly, Santana dropping off to sleep every now and then after episodes of intense crying and whimpering. Rachel headed off to the Gershwin Theatre where she was making her debut on the hit Broadway show Wicked. Quinn fumbled around in the kitchen, cooking supper.<p>

"I'm gonna go out for a bit Q, if that's cool?" Santana mumbled, after dragging herself over to sit on one of the kitchen island stools.

"Yeah sure S. Where too?"

"Um, I'm thinking about hitting up the new bar down the road, Frankie's." Santana uttered, she'd heard from Puck that it was the bar version of his club, and that's definitely what Santana needed.

She wandered over to her duffle bag, sorting through it to try and find a suitable outfit as she decided she wanted to dress up. Deciding there was nothing in there, she made the very regrettable decision of returning to her apartment to get some clothes.

"You're wearing sweat pants and a tank top to a bar? I know you're upset San but really?" Quinn giggled to herself.

"Actually, I'm gonna stop by my apartment. Do you know if Bri-um, _she's_ there?" San picked up her old baseball jacket and headed for the door, hovering and waiting to see if the blonde would slip up and confess to the brunette's suspicions.

"I don't know S. Like I said, I went to buy tissues."

"Yeah, right, okay. Be back later." The Latina answered, not bothering to meet the blondes stare as she exited.

Santana stepped out into the bright sunshine, warm New York City air covering her body and prickling her skin in the heat. She unhooked her sunglasses that hung on the front of her tank top and slid them on before plugging in her iPod and pressing shuffle.

Unfortunately, the song that greeted her sent thousands of images and clips of her and the beautiful blonde racing through her mind.

_I always needed time on my own;  
>I never thought I'd need you there when I cry.<br>And the days feel like years when I'm alone,  
>And the bed where you lie, is made up on your side.<em>

Her brain conjured up the image of the first night after Brittany left. How Santana had curled up on the right side of the bed, her side - leaving her frail, weak arm to slide over the cold sheets of the space next to her.

How she'd longed for the blonde to be there in her arms at that moment, and no matter how much she wished - her longing would never be true.

_When you're gone,  
>The pieces of my heart are missing you,<br>When you're gone,  
>The face I came to know is missing too.<em>

Her breath hitched as a flash of blonde hair appeared in front of her; but to her disappointment - they did not belong to the girl she yearned for. Shaking her head furiously, she carried on walking, the lyrics sinking into her brain.

_We were made for each other, out her forever,  
>I know we were<br>And all I ever wanted was for you to know,  
>Every I'd do, I'd give my heart and soul,<br>I can hardly breathe I need to feel you here with me._

Santana paused mid-step, feeling a strong tug on her fragile heart strings. The weak stitches were slowly unravelling, allowing the agony to drip out excruciatingly slowly. Before she could feel the initial tear, she dug her hand deep inside her pocket, switching the song.

She walked down 2nd avenue, passing the Beekman theatre and Giorgio's. The familiar beat of Tina Turner's 'River Deep Mountain High' sounded through her earphones, causing a smile to creep across the Latina's face and her lips to mouth along with the words.

The smile was interrupted as pain struck her once more, reminding her of the time when she first said 'I love you' to Brittany at Giorgio's four and half years ago. It had been a slip of the tongue, but it was greeted with a warm smile and a repeat of her words.

That was the moment Santana thought she'd be with Brittany forever, _how wrong I was_ she thought to herself. The building owned the small, quaint establishment - it wasn't fancy, but the atmosphere was just so homey there.

However the Latina hadn't been to the restaurant since the blonde had left; too many memories - and with that thought she pushed passed it, turning to see Adriano, the son of the owner Giorgio grinning and waving frantically at the brunette who smiled back bleakly.

The song echoed around her brain, pulling slightly at the opening to the part of the brain where she'd boxed up all of her and Brittany's moments.

* * *

><p>Santana proceeded down the street, attempting to divert her Brittany thoughts to something else. When suddenly, she found herself trying to ignore the itch in the back of her neck that told her Quinn was lying about her previous where-a-bouts.<p>

_Why would she lie?_

The brunette shook off the whispers, listening to the beat of the song as her head bobbed along with it. Flashes of blonde hair kept catching her attention, but she decided to bypass them and ignore the tug on her heartstrings.

As she approached her destination, she pulled out her headphones, shoving them into her pocket and tilting her head to examine the full length of her apartment building.

_So many memories._

She sighed heavily, stepping in to the foyer and hovering by the elevators, awaiting one. She focused her attention on the people entering and leaving her building; most of them she'd never seen before. As the ding rung, telling the Latina her elevator was here - a body fell flushed against her.

"Whoah. Sorry. My bad." She stuttered, meeting a bright pair of blue eyes, however they weren't the ones she'd come too accustomed too.

"S'alright cutie. I'm at fault here too." The woman replied in a slightly southern accent before peering over her secretary-like glasses into Santana's dark brown eyes.

"Um, thanks." The brunette said bluntly; "It's happened a lot recently." A scowl formed on her face as she remembered walking into Brittany at Puck's bar a week or two back in almost exactly the same way.

"Maybe you could tell me 'bout that sometime sugar? How 'bout we go out for a drink sometime?"

The woman responded, eyeing the Latina up in a very obvious way. Santana's eyed widened as her brain muttered to itself;_ Seriously! _She shuffled uncomfortably under the woman's stare and coughed, breaking the contact.

"Um, I gotta go. Elevators leaving." The woman smirked, admiring the Latina's curves as she sauntered into the lift.

"2C. Just in case ya'll were wondering."

Santana's mouth dropped into an 'o' shape, slightly shocked at how forward the woman was as the doors shut, effectively finishing their brief eye contact.

_Do I look like a lesbian or something?_ She asked herself, glancing at her outfit which wasn't flattering, but it didn't spell out 'dyke'.

Ever since leaving high school, she'd been comfortable with her sexuality. But something about the encounter with the female strange left her feeling slightly strange. She'd always been the one to make the moves on other women, signifying her sexual orientation.

And most of the time her gaydar had been correct, so her advances were met which pleased her greatly. But this meeting, it was different - it made a cringe spread across her body, almost causing her upper lip to curl into a disgusted expression.

She shrugged off the thoughts that raced through her mind, bringing her back to reality as she walked down the hallway towards her apartment.

The big gold figures that hung off the door now seemed so intimidating; like she was about to enter someone's house where she knew she wasn't wanted.

* * *

><p>"Stop being stupid. This is half yours." She uttered, sliding the shiny silver key in the lock and twisting until a click sounded, allowing the door to swing open. She took a few steps inside, breathing in the familiar aroma that clenched at her throat.<p>

"Uh, hello?" Santana called out, nervously fidgeting with a receipt that was crumpled up inside her jacket pocket.

"Who is that? How did you get in?" A voice responded, but it wasn't the voice she expected. This one was slightly deeper, and rougher than Brittany's.

"It's Santana, co-owner of this apartment. Who the fuck are you?" She retorted, bracing herself by the coat rack near the door, in case she needed to escape or grab a weapon.

"Whoah. Chill out sister. I'm Dan." Shower smoke escaped the bathroom door as a muscular figure exited, sporting a white towel that wrapped tightly around his waist. His muscular chest glistened with moisture, and his large arms clutched a smaller white towel, which rustled against his damp, black hair - in attempt to dry it.

Santana crossed her arms, noticing a sour, bitter taste at the back of her tongue as he'd been naked only minutes before in her bathroom.

"Right. And you are…" Santana murmured, clicking her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor.

"Brittany's… Friend." He responded before widening his eyes at the sight of the Latina.

He took in her curves which showed through her tight tank top, and smirked as his eyes traced over her rambunctious twins that sat nicely upon her chest.

"Nice." He whispered to himself, grinning evilly. Santana heard him and flared up, taking a step towards him fiercely.

"What?" She hissed, her nose scrunching up aggressively.

"Uhm, nothing. So, may I receive the pleasure of knowing such a lovely looking lady's name?" He asked, trying to sound charming and failing horridly.

"Wow." She rolled her eyes and walked into the living room, throwing down her jacket.

Santana busied herself by grabbing a glass and filling it with orange juice, straight from the refrigerator. She could feel his glare, and turned round to meet it, resting her butt against the countertop.

"Can I fucking help you with something?" Her eyes examined him once more, awaiting an answer. He opened his mouth and shook his head slowly;

"Nuh-uh-uh." She mocked his open mouth, exaggerating it so it made him appear dumber than he actually was.

"Fucking Neanderthal." She spat, inhaling sharply as she realised high school Santana had snuck through her defences.

"Jesus, fucking bitch." Dan whispered to himself, turning away and heading down the corridor back to the bathroom.

It didn't go unnoticed by the Latina, but she shrugged it off and finished her juice, eyeing up the kitchen island that'd seen more than a kitchen island should've.

* * *

><p><em>"Baby, I'm home." Santana said, craning her neck to view the apartment.<em>

_When there was no response she took a few steps forward, leaning against the doorway as she watched the figure of her beautiful girlfriend glide and prance across the kitchen with her headphones in. _

_Santana couldn't help but giggle quietly at the sight. After a few more seconds of watching, the Latina approached the blonde and wrapped her arms around her waist._

_"You really shouldn't watch me like that, it's kinda creepy." Brittany teased as she turned in the brunettes embrace._

_"You knew I was watching you?" Santana mumbled, pressing her lips to the underside of her jaw._

_"I always know when you're watching me." Brittany explained, tilting her neck to the right so the Latina could get better access._

_"Mhm." Was the only response Santana could muster as the blondes perfume swam inside her brain._

_Her lips crept up the soft skin, making their way to Brittany's mouth where she took her bottom lip in between her own. A moan escaped the blondes mouth as Santana sucked gently, tracing her tongue over it slowly, leaving her taste on Brittany's lips._

_Their hands now roamed, Santana's pulled at Brittany's waist, whilst the blondes was tangled up in the dark brown locks. As her hands slid down the brunette's shoulders and arms, Santana grabbed the top of Brittany's thighs, hiking them up until her butt hit the kitchen island, so the blonde was sitting on top of it._

_She kissed her way down Brittany's neck, sucking and nipping gently at the silky, soft skin. As her tongue traced the outline of the blondes collarbone, Brittany shuddered and brought their lips back together fiercely, moulding them against one another and flicking her tongue against Santana's lips, demanding entrance. The Latina obliged, opening her mouth to receive an oral massage from the talented muscle inside Brittany's mouth._

_Her hands slipped down Brittany's waist, over her toned abs that were slightly showing through her bunched up top, and hooked her fingers into the top of Brittany's leggings._

_"Uh, San." Brittany moaned as their lips parted, licking her lips to savour the flavour her girlfriend left._

_"Ssssh." The Latina mumbled, assaulting the blonde's neck as her fingertips reached inside the fabric and over the damp underwear. _

_Brittany moaned once more as Santana's fingers rubbed gently, slipping inside the fabric and through the slick heat of the folds._

_Brittany mumbled something incoherent, and gasped as Santana slid two fingers into her centre, pressing the heel of her hand up against the blonde's most sensitive part. She massaged the warm inside of her girlfriend, speeding up and slowing down to tease Brittany, who brought their mouths back together in a sloppy kiss, their tongues battling together for dominance._

_She felt Brittany clench around her hand as the blonde panted heavily, wrapping her arm around Santana's neck and squeezing so her head was buried in the crook of the blondes shoulder. The Latina curled her fingers inside of the blonde, causing Brittany to shudder violently and watch as a wash of euphoria washed through her girlfriend. _

_She pulled back to watch the blonde as her eyes squeezed shut, her bottom lip pulled tightly between her teeth, revelling in the glorious rush that fluttered throughout her body._

_Santana gave Brittany a few minutes to calm down, resting her chest against the blondes as she withdrew her fingers and wiped them on a nearby cloth._

_"San, that was..." Brittany breathed, losing her words as she flickered her memory back to the feeling she had only minutes ago. _

_Santana chuckled, inhaling deeply and wincing at an intrusive smell that clashed with Brittany's aroma._

_"Uh, Britt." She muttered, turning to watch foam to escape the metal pan._

_"Yeah honey?" Brittany whispered, kissing Santana's earlobe._

_"You're burning something." The Latina answered, stepping back and pointing towards the foaming pan._

_"Awh crap!" The blonde exclaimed, jumping off the kitchen island and rushing to the stove. _

_Santana laughed at the rush Brittany was in, throwing herself about trying to do everything at once. She rested her butt against the kitchen island, marvelling over what it had just allowed the couple to do._

_"Y'know, I'm glad we got this kitchen island." She said, tracing her finger in circles on the marble counter top. Brittany turned, switching off the stove and walking towards the brunette._

_"Mhmm, so am I." She said seductively, winking at the Latina and causing her knees to buckle slightly. _

_Brittany's lips found the skin of Santana's neck, whilst her hands lifted the brunette's thighs so she was in the same position Brittany was only minutes ago. However this time Brittany pushed her shoulder back, and climbed onto the counter straddling her girlfriend._

_"Your turn." She whispered against the Latina's lips, before pressing them together in a passionate kiss._

* * *

><p>After hearing some movement from the bathroom, and a door shutting - Santana wandered back to her old bedroom, shuffling for an outfit in her closet that was packed to the brim with suitcases, clothes and various other pointless items.<p>

Her hands tried to push inbetween the various objects, but found no entrance - so instead she went for the more practical approach. Grabbing anything clothes-like in her reach, and yanking it until she ended ass first on the floor, clutching a tight black dress.

"Fuck." She uttered under her breath, wincing at the throb that emanated from her butt.

A chuckle came from the door, followed by a soft voice.

"You always had too much stuff in that closet." Santana whipped her head towards the door as she met a piercing blue gaze, her eyes flickering away immediately to the now very interesting piece of clothing in her hand.

"Couldn't ever throw anything away. '_I just feel so bad throwing things away, what if I need them in the future Britt?'" _The blonde repeated in a Santana-like voice, and giggling once more - which earned a sad smile from the Latina.

Santana managed to climb to her feet, making sure the eye contact didn't last for longer than 5 seconds as she knew she couldn't handle Brittany's piercing eyes.

"Yeah. Sometimes the hardest thing isn't losing something; it's learning how to live without it." Santana inhaled deeply; making sure Brittany knew she was no longer talking about her possessions. "And there's some things I don't want to live without."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Brittany asked, in a slightly challenging tone. She stepped forward towards the Latina who instinctively took a step in the opposite direction.

"Don't do that." Santana hissed, tightening her grip on the fabric in her hand.

"Do what San?" She muttered innocently, once again challenging the Latina's statement.

"Stare at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're reading my mind."

Brittany crooked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes slightly as her lips curled slightly curled at the sides.

"I said don't." Santana said firmly, her jaw clenching and anger flaring up throughout her veins. The blonde smirked, and took a large step forward.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She murmured, removing her hand from her own arm and moving it towards the brunette.

"Britt'ny." Santana gasped at the blondes touch, goose bumps forming all over her olive skin.

The dancer's body came closer towards Latina's until there was only a few inches between them. The brunette sucked in a large gulp, feeling her heart strings stretch out until they could lengthen no more.

Her heart pounded furiously, almost to the point where she had to fold her arms over her chest, restraining her heart from beating straight through her ribcage.

"San." Brittany whispered, a single tear draping down her porcelain cheek, leaving a salty track behind.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, as if she was fighting the same battle as Santana. The blonde's hot breath blanketed the Latina's face as she pressed even closer, her hands finding the olive ones and pulling them down to her side by cupping her wrists.

Santana inhaled deeply, flinching at the familiar aroma that was Brittany's perfume as it radiated off the dancers soft skin. It'd been so long since she'd been in such close contact with the woman; this was almost tipping her over the edge of insanity.

Santana breathed in heavily trying to recollect her thoughts, but instead she allowed the scent to swim around in her head. Her body reacting in the only way it could, by moving forward, pressing up flush against the dancers, and her eyes closed whilst her face inched closer.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed, review please!<strong>


	9. nine

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Nine<strong>

"Britt?" A husky voice spoke from behind the blonde, immediately retracting their bodies from the close contact in one swift movement.

"You alright there?"

Santana backed up until her calves hit the end board of the bed, staring incredulously at the male casually leaning against the door frame - unaware of what he just interrupted.

"Yeah. Fine." She replied quickly, stepping backwards and flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder to face the man.

Her arm slid around his waist, and her head rested against his muscular shoulder. The large hand belonging to the male stranger stroked up and down the long, slender arm, squeezing her tightly. His stance was so possessive he might as well have just pissed all over her to mark his territory.

"Santana, have you met Dan?" The blonde smiled sweetly, as if the last minute was meaningless.

The Latina darted her glance momentarily towards the taller man, taking in his attire that consisted of a tight white-shirt, which was obviously worn to show his protruding abs, and straight dark blue jeans with brown cowboy boots.

"Not when he was clothed." Santana replied, dismissively removing her gaze from the two standing at her door and heading towards the en-suite bathroom.

"If that's how she wants to play, so be it." The Latina muttered to herself; winking at her reflection before crumbling to the floor in a heavy, crying mess.

She returned ten minutes later, wearing the tight black dress that flaunted all the right assets - ass, curves and boobs. To her disappointment, the two were no longer in sight, so she smoothed down her hair, applied a thick layer of lip gloss to emphasis her naturally pouty lips and checked her mascara for black trails since a few more tears escaped before exiting the room.

After deciding she was happy with herself, she inhaled deeply and glided into the living room where the glass inside her heart was twisted violently at the sight of Dan and Brittany snuggled up.

The blonde hair splaying over the man's shoulder as her cheek pressed tightly into the white t-shirt that covered the man behind her.

As she stepped closer, she watched the man's hands slide over the shoulders, tightening his grip as he sensed the Latina, a smirk joining his face.

Santana noticed the smirk, so she headed to the door, grabbing her short, white leather jacket and pressing down the handle.

This initiated some attention from Brittany, and she felt a blue eyed glare burn a hole into the back of her brain as her eyes traced up and down the Latina's flawless figure.

"I'm going out. Bye." Santana muttered, not wanting to look into the piercing blue eyes that she knew would hold her in the apartment.

"Night."

"Bye San."

Two voices evoked before the door shut, leaving the Latina to exit with a heavy heart and a restrained whimper.

* * *

><p>After a long debate to herself on where would be the least humiliating to end up pale and possibly passed out due to increased alcohol consumption - Santana ended up at <em>Rivera<em>, a bar right round the corner from her apartment.

Appearance wise, it wasn't greatly attractive. It was small and dark, with only a light blue neon sign indicating the entrance as it dipped underneath several apartment buildings.

And inside, it wasn't much difference. The area the bar occupied wasn't huge. Around seven or so tables stood laid out in front of the wooden bar, and eight booths cover with cheap, dark red plastic leather surrounded them.

The Latina had spent a lot of her time at this bar in the first few months of Brittany's absence. Usually Quinn came to her rescue after a very emotional, yet very hard to decipher, phone call.

After arriving she'd comfort her for a while, making sure the sobs subsided before prying the Jack Daniel's filled glass from her hands as she hauled her back to their apartment. Eventually laying her to pass out on the sofa in her work-inspired attire of jeans and a NYFD t-shirt.

Not much had changed since then, she still yearned and cried thousands of tears over the blonde that'd broken her heart - but at least this time she was better dressed.

Something that she'd later regret as several horny, drunken men came onto her, receiving a well-earned back-hander from the angry Latina and a couple of curses in Spanish.

As the night went on, so did Santana's alcohol intake. An hour after arriving, she was tapped on the shoulder - and her scowl was prepared to scare away the next weak attempt of getting her into bed. Except this time she was met by the female stranger she'd literally bumped into in her apartment building.

"Hey cutie. Saw ya'll over here and you're own and thought you'd need some company."

The Latina eyed up the redhead, examining the short, tight, high waisted black skirt that hugged her curves, stopping at her waist as it was met by a wide black belt. A pale pink blouse was tucked in underneath the belt, which pushed up her cleavage and caused Santana's eyesight to hover over them - however she was shorter than the stranger, so it was hard not to stare at them, they were like, just there.

"Like what you see?" The woman asked seductively after smirking at the Latina's glare.

"Meh." Was the only reply the fire-fighter could summon. It was a well-known fact when alcohol was involved, Santana Lopez was not a woman of many words, usually just actions.

"Playin' hard to get doesn't work with me sweetie. I'm a forward kinda girl." The woman bellowed, hopping onto the stool next to Santana.

"Really, never would've noticed." The Latina mumbled sarcastically, sipping on her Jack Daniels and wincing at the burn as it ran down her throat.

"JD on the rocks, my kinda woman. My name's Ariella by the way."

"Santana." The Latina replied, trying to restrain the high school Santana from telling the woman where to shove her flirting as she was annoying her greatly.

"Pretty name for a pretty lady. Darren?" Ariella gestured to the scrawny man behind the bar, who ran over almost instantly.

"Two JD's on the rocks, put a twist in won'tcha honey."

The redhead winked at the boy, who barely looked old enough to drive let alone serve liquor, and he practically fainted over the gesture.

Only seconds later, another glass filled with JD was shoved in front of Santana, who pushed her fingertips against it, moving it away from her.

"No thanks." She said, not meeting the green glare that she could feel against her temple.

"I'm gonna be nice to you Santana," The redhead whispered, leaning in towards the brunette and leaving her lips to hover a centimetre or two away from her ear;

"I'm not used to bein' dismissed like this, but you're special"

She punctuated with a quick sweep of Santana's body before continuing,

"So I'm just gonna say it up straight. You wanna get on this?"

Santana processed the words, revelling over the hot sex she'd probably have with this stranger. Although she wasn't really attracted to the woman, pointless sexcapades with random people always seemed to dull the ache that wore down her body every single second of the day, leaving her to feel helpless and depressed.

Santana glugged the remaining contents of her drink, before moving onto the next one, downing it in one and gripping the hand of the redhead who was waiting on her answer.

They stumbled up the concrete steps to greet the humid and steamy streets of New York City at night, walking slowly to Santana's apartment.

During the journey home, the brunette had slightly sobered up, causing her temporary blinded judgements to clear.

The redhead turned to the Latina, pressing light kisses to the olive skin that covered her neck as the elevator door shut.

A few dings later, and the letters _Fourth Level_ popped up on an LCD screen across from her, something which currently interested her more than the woman practically giving herself to her due to the fact it was a new addition to the rickety elevator.

As the doors opened, Santana's mind raced with ways of how to back out of the situation - and it ran blank, there were literally no excuses that came to her dehydrated brain.

She pushed away from the wall she was leaning on, removing the lips that assaulted her neck to proceed down the hallway towards the daunting entrance.

But as they approached the now very intimidating door, the thought of Brittany burnt her with guilt. It made the brunette feel ridiculous, _being loyal to a woman who didn't want her fucking pathetic,_ she whispered internally.

"I don't wanna do this." Santana whispered, dropping her eyes to focus on the criss-crossed carpet that covered the floor.

"Whyy?" Ariella asked, her southern accent causing the word to come out 'wha-eye'.

"It's for all the wrong reasons." She responded honestly, recieving a roll of the eyes from the tall redhead.

"Shouldn't have wasted ma time stupid, frigid bitch." Ariella spat, whipping her hair around and stomping back towards the elevator. Santana just sighed at the insult, knowing at least two out of the three were right.

* * *

><p>Entering the apartment was worse than she expected; all the furniture had been moved around, there were some things missing and she couldn't feel Brittany anymore. <em>Bet it was that prick.<em>

"What the…" Santana breathed, keys sending a metallic clanging sound to echo the empty apartment as they dropped out her hand.

"Dan?" A soft voice bellowed through the apartment, sending tingles down her spine before realising the name she'd called out.

"Nope."

"San." She uttered gently, peering out from the bedroom and meeting chocolate brown eyes. The sight of the blonde caused a bubble of oxygen to lodge in her throat, holding back any words from escaping her mouth.

"I was at Rivera's, and I've been drinking so I thought I could just crash here." The Latina commented, as if she needed reason for being in her own apartment.

"You don't need to explain why you're here. It's your apartment after all."

"Our." Santana corrected, wincing as she realised the only tie she had to the blonde was through a few rooms.

"Yeah." The blonde breathed, a silence invaded their conversation for a few moments until Brittany decided to break it;

"Look San I just wanted to te-"

"I don't wanna know." The brunette dismissed, shifting her weight from her left leg to her right as she stood awkwardly behind the sofa.

"We're just friends." Brittany stated, ignoring the Latina's previous comment.

Every instinct inside of the Latina told her to yell and scream at the blonde, telling her that Dan practically eye fucked her whenever he laid eyes on the dancer, that he touched her like a couple would touch each other, like Santana used to touch Brittany, not like friends did.

She wanted to break down whilst wrapped in the blondes arms and tell her how in love with her she still was, hoping the agonising heartache would fade away with a single kiss. But Santana couldn't. The jealousy tortured her every time she saw her and Dan together, but letting Brittany know what excruciating pain she was enduring, was so much worse.

"I really don't care B." Santana retorted, flipping her hair over her right shoulder with her hand and sitting on the sofa, cross legged. She heard a heavy sigh come from behind her as Brittany breathed out hopelessly.

"Sa-"

"Britt Britt! I'm home!" A deep voice yelled, the door slamming loudly as Dan waltzed in. The combination of Santana's nickname for Brittany and the name of her apartment caused Santana to snap;

"Home? You're not fucking 'home'. You don't live here, this isn't yours to call home."

"Whoah. Calm down J-Lo." Dan muttered, raising her hands in defence.

Santana watched Brittany's eyes widen at the name as the Latina's head tipped slightly to the right, bearing her teeth at the man standing no more than two metres away from her.

"What?" Santana spat, narrowing her eyes and kissing her teeth aggressively.

"You heard me. Calm the fuck down. You're so fucking moody all the time. Just 'coz you got issues with my girl here doesn't mean you can be a completely bitch to everyone around you. No wonder you're alone." He uttered aggressively.

The fire burned inside of Santana at the words _'my girl'_, igniting the explosives inside of her. She launched for the man, fist raised and adrenaline pumping through her veins. Santana could almost feel the venom that bubbled in the pit of her stomach.

Everything went so fast as Santana was restrained by a pair of strong arms that wrapped themselves around her waist. She didn't recognise the feel, so her arms battered against the shorter body pressed against her back.

A pair of arms clutched her raised fists, circling her wrists as they struggled to pull them down by her side. Hot breath met Santana's flaring ears as the figure in front of her leaned in;

"Calm down." The feminine voice whispered, "You need to calm the fuck down."

Santana blinked furiously, her tongue felt like it was about to drop off with the grip her teeth held on it. Her heart pounded, she could feel the blood gushing around her body, causing her head to spin as she was dragged out into the corridor.

* * *

><p>A cold breeze met her, along with a pair of cool palms as they pressed against her cheeks, cupping her face and forcing her to look into the hazel eyes staring back at her.<p>

"Santana. Breathe." Quinn uttered, her fingertips wrapped firmly around the Latina's wrists as she still struggled slightly.

They were now standing in the hall, with someone who still had their arms wrapped around Santana's waist.

"I remember being on the recieving end of your aggression. I'd hate to be Dan right now." Rachel mumbled from behind Santana, knowing it was the diva, the Latina attempted to remove the restraint, which just held on tighter.

Santana scowled, but knew her body allowed the two women to drag her out the apartment, so it wouldn't cause any more trouble.

"Quinn. Get your dwarf off me. I'm fine." She growled, trying to shake off the Jewish girls hands.

"The dwarf who managed to restrain you." Berry muttered as she released her grip after a nod from Quinn.

Santana brushed past the comment, standing firmly in the corridor.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Rachel called me after seeing you walk into your apartment with a redhead in hand. Which by the way you're going to explain."

"Right. Thanks Berry. And I sent her home." She said as Quinn raised her eyebrow sceptically.

"Why?"

"Because I did, is that okay with you mom?" Santana mumbled sarcastically.

"It's absolutely nothing to do with someone tall, blonde and gorgeous is it?" Quinn commented, pointing to the apartment door.

"Hey!" Rachel said in an extremely high tone.

"You know you're my baby." The blonde muttered, scrunching her nose and the smaller brunette and recieving a grin.

Santana coughed, trying to break up their love fest, "No, Fabray. It's not."

The blonde darted her gaze back to Santana whilst raising both eyebrows to meet her hairline.

"Now, have you calmed down?" Rachel asked, interrupting Santana's scowl that was directed at Q.

"Yeah, sorry," Santana replied, sliding down the wall that she had been leaning on. "Actually, thanks guys. And I swear Berry if you comment on me and my gratitude I'll kick your ass back to Smurfville."

"But she's not blue?" Another voice spoke, as Brittany opened the door and took a step towards the three women who were huddled together in the middle of the hall.

Santana rolled her eyes and clenched her jaw, trying to restrain the pain that was overriding the anger.

"Santana's gonna come home with us actually Britt." Quinn said, smiling lightly at the other blonde, Santana watched the exchange of smiles and narrowed her eyes. _Since when was she nice to Brittany?_ She thought to herself.

"Yeah, okay. I think that'd be the best for Dan's safety." Brittany added with a smile.

"Yeah Dan's safety comes first." The Latina gave a sarcastic thumbs up, which caused the blondes face to fall.

"San..."

"Whatever. C'mon lovebirds. Let's bounce." Santana suggested, heading into the opened elevator. She was followed shortly after by Quinn and Rachel, who were giving Brittany an apologetic smile.

"Bye Britt."

"Bye Rach, bye Q. Bye Santana." Brittany commented, waving weakly as the elevator doors shut. Within twenty minutes they were back at Quinn and Rachel's apartment, and Santana decided sleep would be better than a lecture, so she proceeded to the spare bedroom and passed out fully clothed on the bed.

* * *

><p>"Quinn?" Rachel mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed as the blonde undressed.<p>

"Mhm?" She replied, sliding off her skirt.

"Where did you go the other day? When you left me with Santana?"

Quinn exhaled heavily, turning to meet the gaze of the tiny brunette.

"I went to see Britt."

"What? Why? I thought you didn't like her?" Rachel questioned, watching the blonde walk over and sit beside her.

"I didn't. My intentions when I went over there was to rip her head off for making Santana so depressed." The Jewish girl raised her eyebrows at the blonde.

"Now you know this isn't our place to say anything, so you have to promise me you won't say anything to Santana." Rachel nodded, so the blonde took a deep breath and continued;

"When I got to Britt's apartment, she was a complete mess. Her hair was in a scruffy ass bun, her eyes were swollen and red. She honestly looked worse than I'd ever seen her before."

Sadness flickered into Rachel's dark brown eyes, her face dropping slightly at the image.

"She started saying she knew she's fucked up, that she knows I hated her etc. But then I explained how broken Santana had been, and I just watched her crumble inside - she looked so damaged Rach. It was so hard to be angry with her, especially as it's Brittany, she's just so like good." Quinn glanced at her hands, which were now twiddling together nervously.

"Anyways, I went there to ask if she was gonna carry on fucking Santana around and basically make her feel like crap so she would leave her alone. But she told me something before I could, something I really hadn't expected..."

The story went on, Rachel reacting at the parts and crying at others. By the end, both of them had mascara trails down their cheeks and were embraced into each other's arms.

"...So yeah, that's it. I can't condone her actions, because if I were in her shoes I would've told Bianca where to shove it. But it's Brittany; she's so innocent and wants the best for Santana."

The diva started sobbing heavily again, crying into the crook of Quinn's shoulder. After a few minutes, they subsided some-what, so Rachel pulled herself up to look into hazel eyes;

"You need to tell Santana."

Quinn shook her head from side to side, "Rachel you know I can't. I'm not supposed to know and you know how Santana will react if she finds out I knew before her. Plus Brittany will tell her in her own time."

"What if she doesn't? They're soul mates Quinn."

"Fate laid a hand, it's going to work out. Trust me."

"I do baby, but..." Rachel murmured, feeling guilty for harbouring such a secret.

"No buts, now, come here and kiss me." Rachel obliged to Quinn's request, and they forgot about the secret for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>"Hello?" Santana answered grudgingly, the grogginess from her sleep still trying to drag her back into a deep slumber.<p>

"Lieutenant Lopez, we need you down at the station."

"Rutherford, it's 3 in the fucking morning. Can it not wait?" Santana grumbled, glancing at her clock.

"No. Deputy Chief Adams said he wants the paperwork on his desk in 3 hours, and you haven't been in the last couple of days so I know you haven't done it."

"Fine. I'll be there in ten." The Latina murmured, shutting the phone and unwillingly getting up and throwing on a black FDNY t-shirt and jeans.

True to her word, she was down at the station within ten minutes. As she entered, the bright lights stung her pupils - it was still dark out and the only light she encountered on the journey was the dull street lights.

"Lopez! You've got under 2 hours. Get crackin', they're on your desk." Santana nodded, grabbing a cup of coffee before heading to her office. As she shut the door, her coffee spilt all over her t-shirt.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She yelled, throwing her cup in the garbage can and yanking off her top.

"Whoah Lopez, put a tee on man. You're already tempting enough." Matt said as he walked through the door with an extra-large Starbucks coffee, spotting Santana in jeans and a bra.

"Shut up Rutherford. Where'd you manage to get Starbucks at this time?" Santana gestured her head to the cup.

"I got my contacts." The male giggled, handing it over. "Thought you might need it."

"You're a fucking life saver." The Latina commented, shrugging on a hoody that hung loosely from her slender frame.

"Got a spare t-shirt in my locker if you need it." He muttered, perching on the edge of her desk as she wriggled uncomfortably under the fabric of the sweater.

"That'd be good." She answered, taking off the hoody and throwing on the t-shirt Matt'd given her as he walked back in.

"Whadda you want then?"

"Actually, Adams sent me over some photos of the scene, and I know you've got a connection with her so I thought you'd like to see. The fire just seems a bit suspicious."

"So you lied, Adams didn't want me here."

"No, but you wouldn't have come otherwise and knowing me I'd forget. So enjoy."

Matt smiled before scattering the photos he was grasping across the desk, pointing to one in particular.

"The fire started from here, by the window. The woman's statement said she'd heard a window break seconds before discovering the fire."

"Brittany. Her name's Brittany." Santana interjected instinctively, surprised by her own correction.

"Right." Matt rolled his eyes before continuing, "Anyway, we found traces of brown glass from a broken bottle."

"Shouldn't forensics be dealing with this Rutherford? She probably tripped, dropped a bottle and then the fire started, igniting the alcohol traces. Done deal." Santana mumbled, not wanting to know the boring details.

"No Santana listen for a minute-."

"No. I've got work to do, I really don't want to know about these insignificant details. Now can you leave? I'm tired, pissed off, still slightly drunk and angry." Santana said firmly, watching Matt's mouth open and close several times after debating what to respond.

"Okay."

The door slammed shut, leaving Santana with several photos of the apartment Brittany moved into after she'd left the Latina, along with a stack of paperwork.

_Fuck._

She said internally, before grabbing a pen and starting from the top of the stack. She read the notes over and over again, feeling her eyelids get heavier and heavier as the minutes ticked by.

* * *

><p>Before she knew it, she only had a few sheets left, which need her signature. At 5.58am, she'd finished. The muscles in her hand throbbed and ached as she'd written continuously for at least two hours.<p>

She rubbed her eyes and face with the heels of her hands, smoothing down her hair and resting the back of her head against the top of her chair. The Latina exhaled heavily as bent her neck in several awkward angles in order to get the crick in it out.

She picked up the completely stack of paperwork, and carried them through the station until she reached the office with **Deputy Chief Adams **written on the metal name plate.

"Come in." A booming voice spoke, so Santana let herself in and walked over to his desk, thumping the stack down.

"All done Sir." She said, standing up straight. The greying, middle-aged man flicked through the various documents, glancing over them before nodding at Santana.

"Thank you. I actually have some more work for you to do," He told her, not looking up to meet her eyes as they rolled.

"Of course."

"There's a detective that's taken special interest in the Veniero's cafe case, and we need someone who was at the scene to describe what they saw. Seeing as you rescued the young female, and you were inside of the scene longer than any of the others - you get the lucky job of remembering everything."

"Yes sir." Santana nodded, thinking of a way to explain to the detective that she didn't notice anything because she was too absorbed in saving her soul mates life.

"He's down with Rutherford at the moment." Santana nodded slowly, not quite knowing where this conversation was going.

"You may leave." The aging man said dismissively as the Latina walked out the door, and downstairs to greet the cop.

"Puckerman?" Santana said shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"My job. I'm Detective Noah Puckerman."

Santana's jaw dropped at the title, not quite believing that her bartender was a cop.

"You're a cop?" She asked, walking up to Rutherford as he cleaned the huge fire engine that was in the centre of the room.

"Yeah. I do own the bar, but usually my bro' Chang deals with it."

"Well holy shit. Never would've thought that. Well, I'm still Lieutenant Santana Lopez of the New York Fire Department, Battalion 8, Ladder 120. And this," She punctuated the sentence by leaning over to rest her palm against the vehicle, "Is my baby Engine 62, best one there is in the Big Apple."

"How formal." Puck teased, tightening his tie. Only then did Santana notice how smart the guy looked; a dark grey suit with a black shirt and bright red tie.

"Someone looks smart." She commented, eyeing up him and down.

"I always do on the job." He winked, spinning round to give Santana a full view of his attire.

"Right, well this way to my office _Detective_." The brunette said, guiding the cop.

"Thank you Lieutenant." He muttered as he took a seat in front of her desk, a file in hand and a notepad.

"Down to business then." Santana said, straightening out her face and trying to go into 'serious mode'.

"Yep. Right, okay. So describe what happened from the beginning."

Santana recollected the event, going over everything she remembered - but of course leaving out the whole nearly-drooling-over-Brittany thing. Puck barely looked at her as his hand started scribbling excessively fast onto the pad, taking in everything the lieutenant was saying.

"Okay. That'll be enough. Now I need you to think back to when you walked in, did you see anything suspicious about the apartment? Maybe the front door being off the hinge, or a broken window? Anything at all?"

The Latina rested into the back of her chair, tapping her fingertips along the wooden desk as she racked her brain. Mentally, she traced back to the night, thinking of her entrance and how she felt.

A tightening in her chest formed as she remembered the lack of oxygen she had, not only due to the air but from seeing the beautiful blonde laying almost lifelessly in the bathtub. Suddenly, it clicked - something that she'd seen that she'd never thought was important.

"Well, when I exited the door was hanging off the frame, only one hinge remained still attached. And there was a broken window in the bathroom as well as the living room. But the one in the living room was in kind of a circular shape." She replied, curious by her own words.

"Hmm." Puck mumbled; "Santana I need you to do something, in honour of the NYPD. I need to know the whole story of what happened, from the only person who really knows."

He continued, leaning forward and rested his forearms against his thighs. "We need to know Brittany's side of the story, and you're the only one she'll ever tell the 100% honest truth too."

Santana nodded, knowing what was to come and mentally preparing herself for how she was going to complete such a request.

"Can you find out exactly what happened. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but personally I'd think you're good police material - and if you ever get tired of the suicide profession, join the force." He smirked, attempting to lighten the conversation.

"Sure Puckerman."

"Thank you Lieutenant, that'll be all." He muttered, standing up and offering out a hand - Santana shook it and smiled.

He proceeded out the door, leaving Santana to mull over how she was going to have a conversation with the blonde that lasted for more than two minutes. Her heart wrenched at the thought, and spent the rest of her work hours worrying.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, so I know the ending to this sucked - but I promise it's gonna get so much better. I've planned out everything, including the end of this story and I'm so excited to write it!<strong>

**Thank you for all your reviews by the way! Much appreciated!**


	10. ten

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Ten<strong>

It's the end of Santana's shift, 11:30pm finish isn't bad - but considering she started at 3 in the morning, her work day had felt like forever. She grabbed her jacket and keys, before heading out into the cool crisp air of New York City.

She loved this city, the atmosphere, the skylines, the shops, the people, just everything really.

Tucking her hands deep into her jacket pockets and burying her mouth under the collar of it, she headed towards her old apartment with Brittany in mind.

As she walked, only a few people passed her, most of them looking rather shady and suspicious considering it was a Sunday night and everyone had work the next morning - so most people would be at home, tucked up in bed.

She licked her lips, attempting to dampen the dry, cracking skin that covered them. Two seconds later what felt like a cloud of smoke punched down her throat, causing her to crave a cigarette.

She'd started right after Brittany had left, but was persuaded not to smoke indoors due to the amount of fire's she'd put out that had started because of cigarettes. And considering she spent 90% of her time indoors, whether it was in her apartment or at the station - smoking just kind of slipped her mind.

But as she was alone, and currently walking at least a mile or two home craving a cigarette, so she popped into a local convenience store - picking up 20 Newport Lights, a tape recorder and then exiting.

She shoved the recorded in her jacket pocket, and only a few flicks of a lighter later, she was damaging her lungs with the addictive taste of nicotine.

Quinn had once questioned her about her new habit, whilst Rachel butchered her about the dangers of it. The only reply the Latina could come up with matched her state back then; depressing - _'I take comfort in the fact that they might kill me before things get worse' _were the words she used. Which received a dramatic eye roll from Berry and a small shake of the head from the blonde.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes and three cigarettes later, she arrived at her apartment. She'd been relieved of her nicotine crave, but she was still shit-scared of the fact that she had to have a conversation that was longer than two minutes, with a girl who stomped on her heart eight months ago - effectively crushing her every hope and dream.<p>

The elevator dinged, and she stepped into the hallway, inhaling the familiar stench of her apartment building, musty yet homey. Her apartment door seemed almost unbearably daunting as she wandered up to it, armed with the key.

She clicked it open and walked in, shutting the door behind her as she caught a flash of blonde hair perched on the sofa - the sound of Finding Nemo playing through the speakers attached to the TV.

"Brittany?" Santana addressed her with her full name, showing the seriousness of the conversation they were about to have.

"Santana? You're home." She replied, too domestically for her liking.

"I need to talk to you about something work-related." The Latina said honestly, heading towards the sofa before hovering awkwardly - deciding whether to sit on the coach or on the arm chair to her left.

Brittany watched her decision, and saw as the brunette settled on the arm chair which she knew wasn't as comfortable as the sofa. Apparently her choice of seating reflected her mood, uncomfortable.

"Right. What is it?" The blonde questioned, twiddling with her blonde hair between her fingers, telling Santana she was slightly nervous by the question.

"I need to know exactly what happened the night of the fire." Santana commented, not meeting the piercing blue gaze of the dancer as she fumbled around in her pocket, pressing the record button on the tape recorder.

"Why?" Brittany asked, trying to decipher Santana's reasons for knowing about that night.

The brunette pondered over telling the truth or not, but instead she'd leave Brittany to come up with her own conclusions for her curiosity; "Paperwork."

The blonde had seen Santana in action so many times she knew there was something more having to fill in paperwork, but instead of questioning it, she started on the story.

"Well, I'd just finished my shift at _Frankie's_, and I came home around 1am. It was completely normal; I listened to my messages and watched about five minutes of TV before deciding I'd probably fall asleep if I watched anymore so I went to bed."

Santana's ears were listening to the story, but her mind raced back to all the times when she and Britt were snuggled up on the sofa, watching TV until Britt fell asleep. Where Santana stepped in to carry her to bed in her sleepy state, and watching her chest rise and fall whilst tiny snores escaped her perfect lips.

"I think it was around 2.45 when I woke up after hearing like a crashing or something shattering. So I grabbed a baseball bat which I had stored under my bed and stepped into the living room armed. But I wasn't very ninja-like because I was laughing at how stupid I looked."

The blonde giggled, which elicited a similar but quieter one from Santana. There was a light that brightened the sky-blue eyes at the sound of the Latina laughing, but it was shortly met by silence as the heartache cut off any sound coming from the brunette's mouth.

"But when I got there, I smelt burning and saw that my window was broken and flames just like spreading through my apartment. By the time I registered it, my kitchen was alight and so was half my living room. I freaked but, but remembered what you said about what to do in a fire. So I ran in to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Then I broke the window and got in the bathtub - where you said the fire couldn't hurt me."

* * *

><p><em>Santana cracked open the bedroom door, looking inside to see her beautiful girlfriend laying soundly asleep with her blonde hair splayed all over the pillow beside her. An arm lay across Santana's side of the bed as if Brittany had been looking for her. The Latina wandered up to the bed, stripping off her dirty, smoke-ridden uniform and lying next to the dancer in just her underwear.<em>

_"Britt, hun, I'm home." She whispered into the blonde's ear, causing her to roll over into the Latina's waiting embrace._

_"Mhm, it's good to have you home baby." Brittany mumbled into the crook of Santana's neck. The brunette felt the face scrunch as the blonde inhaled._

_"You smell of smoke." Brittany said disapprovingly. She'd never like the idea of Santana being a fire-fighter. Mostly because she was putting her life on the line every day for selfish New Yorkers who given the chance, probably wouldn't do the same._

_"I know baby, had a 10-26." The Latina only realised then Britt didn't know the codes like she did, "Some idiot left food on a stove, a fire erupted and basically took out the whole kitchen."_

_"I leave food on the stove all the time." Brittany whispered, pressing kisses to Santana's neck and jawline._

_"Please be careful baby. I don't know what I'd do if..." The brunette stumbled, not wanting to even think the words._

_"Okay. Sorry Lieutenant." The blonde said seductively. Santana smiled and rolled over, so she was pressed in between Brittany's legs, hovering above her. _

_She kissed her with all the energy she had left, her tongue exploring every part of Brittany's mouth that she could possibly get too - the only reason they parted was due to lack of oxygen._

_"God, you're even sexier when you call me that." Santana uttered against the pale skin of Brittany's neck. Her lips were moving against the skin, but her mind was currently occupied with the thought of Brittany getting into trouble with fire. _

_"But please just remember, if you ever do get into trouble. Get in the bathtub and crack a window, it'll give you time. And keep a fire blanket within reach at all times. Those things really do save lives.""_

_"Yes Lieutenant Lopez. Your wish is my command." Brittany said softly, bringing their lips back together in a kiss that could've ignited the room._

* * *

><p><em>Shit<em>. Santana wondered how long the daydream had occupied her attention for; but turned her attention back to the blonde standing metres away from her in the kitchen next to the boiling kettle.

"...It was only about five minutes later did I remember I didn't have the fire blanket which I kept in my kitchen around me." Brittany finished, grabbing the coffee granules and placing them into two cups. "You wanted a cup right?"

"Uhm, yeah. Sure. Please." Santana stuttered, not wanting to sound too rude. Apparently during her daydream, Brittany had started cooking something judging by the smell emanating throughout the living room.

"What you cooking?" The Latina asked, jutting her chin in the direction of the pan.

"Eggy bread. Your favourite." She mumbled, smiling sadly at the brunette before turning her attention to the frying pan.

Santana decided to take a stool behind the kitchen island, mindlessly playing with the coffee cup in front of her - taking slow sips and revelling in the feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body.

It was only now that she realised how cold she was, and the goose bumps sunk back into her skin as the hot liquid seeped down her throat. Santana sniffed, inhaling a slightly disgusting scent - she glanced around, spotting the cause of the smell.

"Uhm B, you're burning the food." She chuckled, rising from her seat and heading to the stove with the burning pan.

"Awh crap." Brittany muttered, attempting to grab the pan. But she slipped, her slender fingers heading towards the heated metal.

"Britt no!" Santana yelled, pushing her hand out the way and wincing as the open flame touched her skin, scorching the skin and burning her.

"Ah fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." The Latina blurted out, clutching her hand as she hissed inwards, flinching at the burning sensation that ran over her skin.

"You should be more careful." A deep voice interrupted, Santana peeked over her shoulder to see an evil looking smile paste Dan's face. "Fire can kill."

Santana cringed as his deep voice sent a tingle down her spine, itching her neck as she watched the evil smile convert into a smirk. The sensation that throbbed through her hand, but it was dulled temporarily as she saw something behind the dull green eyes that resembled revenge, or anger.

Santana shook of the thought after the pain struck her once more, moving her attention to the skin that protruded from her hand, leaving a sensitive burn.

"Run your hand under cold water San, it'll sting but the pain will subside for a bit. I'll grab the burn cream and a gauze pad. Be right back." Brittany muttered, sprinting off into the bathroom probably to the medical cabinet that hung above the sink.

"Britt tells me you're a fire-fighter." Dan said, crossing his arms as he leant against the kitchen doorframe.

"Yeah." Santana replied, running her hand under the freezing water and biting on her bottom lip as the cold burned her hand. _Ah the irony._

"Then you should know to be more careful around open flames." He added, sauntering over to the stove, licking his fingertips and flicking them over the fire, playing with it.

"And you shouldn't play with them." Santana said firmly, leaning over and switching off the gas that fuelled the fire.

"I don't know about that. Sometimes it's..." He paused, his eyes fixated on the orange flames that licked his fingertips, "_Entertaining_."

His eyes reflected the colour as they darted to Santana, the evil smirk returning to his face. It caused the shivers to creep up on the Latina once more and he closed his mouth, after prolonging the word 'entertaining'.

"Entertaining?" Santana questioned, her eyes narrowing at his peculiar choice of words.

"Yes. Sometimes it's entertaining to watch things just... burn."

She studied his face, knowing there was something between his words that he wasn't saying. The lieutenant opened her mouth to question his creepy statement, but Brittany bounded in - armed with a lot of medical supplies. Dan's face fell, and he eyed the blonde before turning and disappearing into the hallway.

"Britt, you don't need to bring the ER here." Santana scowled, shaking her head at how worried the blonde looked.

"You're hurt."

"So?" The brunette asked, drying off her hand with a nearby cloth.

"I don't want you to be in pain." She added, Santana rolled her eyes once again at the irony that strained her sentence. A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips, causing the piercing blue eyes to infect her stare.

"What?"

"Nothing." The brunette replied, allowing the blonde to take her hand and gently squeeze some burn cream onto the wound that burned red on the back of her hand.

Santana felt her heart flutter as Brittany's long slender fingers brushed against her own, leaving a familiar tingling feeling to crawl over skin. It seemed Brittany noticed it too, as she placed her whole hand underneath Santana's, letting their fingers almost thread together as her other hand rubbed the cream in gently.

"Britt..." Santana whispered, revelling at the touch of the blonde's silky smooth skin. "Don't."

"I'm just helping you San."

Anger flashed through the Latinas body, remembering how the girl in front of her just walked out her life like she'd never meant anything. Stamped on her heart and disappearing out her life for eight months.

All the fury bubbled inside the bit of Santana's stomach as Brittany placed the gauze over the wound. Leaving their fingers slightly entwined as she reached for the medical tape.

"Brittany, you know what you're doing." Santana growled, whipping her hand out of the blondes and crossing her arms as she walked towards the sofa, leaning her butt against the back of it.

"Santana I'm not finished." Brittany said firmly, taking a few steps towards the Latina until she was standing in front of her.

The blonde grabbed her hand once more, wrapping medical tape around the gauze pad slowly, brushing her fingertips on the outsides of Santana's fingers, tickling them gently.

Santana's head swam under the touch of her ex-girlfriend. She couldn't lie, she'd missed Brittany's soft touch and comfort - and having her touch his skin and look after her was almost overwhelming.

The dull ache throbbed throughout her being as she closed her eyes, wishing the blonde would just take one step away from her as their faces were only inches apart.

"There we go, all done." Brittany whispered, lifting her head to meet Santana's eyes.

The Latina heard the dancer's breath hitch as she realised how close their faces were. Hot breath tickled Santana's mouth as she clenched her jaw, trying to summon any type of strength or willpower to shove Brittany away and yell at her.

"S'ntana." She whispered as a single tear dropped down Santana's cheek, leaving the Latina's frame to shudder at the way she spoke, missing the first 'a' in her name.

Adrenaline pumped through Santana's veins, causing her heard to pound ferociously as Brittany's thumb instinctively came up to wipe away the tear. Her fingertips lingered over the soft olive skin and she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the intoxicating aroma of Brittany's perfume.

"Please, just..." The dancer uttered quietly, so quiet the fire-fighter almost didn't hear it.

She closed the gap between them, allowing their noses to bump slightly. Santana's brain was screaming at her to pull away, knowing that one kiss could potentially snap the remaining heart strings, causing it to falter and her ending up with an eventual fatal heart attack. Or the restrictions on her lungs could tighten and she could die of a slow and painful suffocating death.

Neither sounded really appealing to the brunette, but her body had different ideas. She hadn't kissed anyone since Brittany, and the sparks that were flying in the four millimetre gap was enough to send her over the edge.

Before she could decide, Brittany's lips were gently brushing against Santana's, leaving shivers to form throughout both of their frames. The blonde pressed her lips harder this time, taking Santana's bottom lip between hers and sucking gently as her hands snaked around the brunette's waist.

They parted momentarily, brown orbs met sky-blue ones, and Santana recognised fear as it clouded the piercing eyes that were gazing at her.

With less hesitation, Brittany leaned in once more, pushing her lips to Santana's, feeling them mould together perfectly. Santana's chest might as well have imploded at the internal pounding her heart was taking, causing it to swell and press up against her frail ribcage.

The Latina let out a small moan as she felt the soft tongue of the blonde flick against her lip, requesting entrance which her body was more than happy to give.

The brunette felt herself being lifted up as the dancer grasped the back of her thighs, hitching her up to perch on the back of the sofa so Brittany was in between her legs, pressed flush against the olive beauty's body.

Brittany's tongue entered Santana's mouth, gliding and massaging over the Latina's own muscle. A moan erupted from the brunette's mouth at the familiar taste, which caused the dancer to smile into the kiss, retracting her tongue and pressing their lips together once more in a sweet, but quick kiss before parting for a much needed oxygen in take.

* * *

><p>An awkward atmosphere crept in between their bodies, filling the eerie silence as coffee and blue swirled together in an intense stare. Santana gulped heavily, realising what just happened. Her face went blank, unreadable - which didn't go unnoticed by Brittany as her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed into a curious expression.<p>

Santana felt the sucker punch in her stomach as the pain hit her, almost toppling Santana over as she clutched on tightly to the back of the sofa, trying to regain her balance. Her lips tingled from the sensation she'd longed for, for eight gruelling months.

She felt her fingertips touch her swollen lips, remembering the taste of Brittany who currently stood in front of her, with a feared expression pasted on her face. But instead of facing the pain she knew was to come, her body reacted in the way high school Santana knew, with anger.

Santana tried to summon any words, anything at all - but nothing came out. She wanted to scream at Brittany, telling her she just couldn't just walk back into her life like nothing happened. That she couldn't keep flaunting around Dan in front of her and then act like everything's okay by kissing her.

But instead of the vicious words escaping her mouth, she clambered off the sofa, grabbing her phone and keys. She fought every urge in her body to turn around and run back into Brittany's arms, kissing her like there was no tomorrow.

But she didn't, she just slammed the door excessively loud to emphasize her dramatic escape, not even bothering to meet the piercing blue gaze she knew was watching her every movement.

The stingingly cold New York air pricked her hot cheeks, causing goose bumps to form all over her body as she'd realised she'd forgotten her coat. Instead of allowing the thoughts to invade her mind, and feel the excruciating agony that would probably kill her - she whipped open her phone, and dialled a familiar number;

"Meet me, Rivera's in ten."

Santana demanded, and with a flick of her fingers, the phone snapped shut.


	11. eleven

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Eleven<strong>

"What's up Lopez?" Puck asked as he swooped in to sit on the vacant stool next to her.

"I can't... I just." Santana sputtered, sipping on her JD on the rocks.

"Jesus. How many of those have you had?" Santana felt Puck eyeing up the three empty tumbler glasses in front of her.

"Shut up Puckerman. You're either here to drink with me or you can leave. Your choice." The brunette demanded, finishing off the contents and waving to the bartender for another.

"Make that four." Puck added, nodding at the barman before turning to Santana.

"Four?"

"I got me some catching up to do." He giggled, recieving the drinks and glugging down the first two within seconds.

"Fucking alcoholic."

"Learned from the best." The detective smiled, clinking his glass to the Latina's before getting a light jab in the ribs.

Santana sat comfortably in the silence, content with her friendship with Puck. Whenever they were together, it's not like they needed to speak to have a good time.

"So, are you gonna tell me or we just gonna sit here getting pissed?"

The brunette exhaled heavily, staring at the amber liquid that swished around in the glass in front of her as she tipped it from side to side.

"We kissed." The only words that the brunette could muster whilst she braced herself for the pain.

"Who? You and... Oh." Puck hovered, before realising and clapping a hand over his mouth.

"And that's not a good thing because..." He added, raising his eyebrow at Santana. The Latina turned to meet his gaze, slightly shocked that he couldn't figure it out for himself considering his 'detective' status.

"Because she fucking left. She left me. Broke my heart. She told me she didn't want to me with me anymore Puck. She didn't want me." The Latina spoke firmly, taking a large sip from the glass in front of her before deciding she didn't want to hear what Puck had to say just yet.

"And now she comes back. Hanging around some fucking random asshole called Dan, then pretends to care for me and helps me when I burn my fucking hand," Santana half-yelled, lifting her hand to reveal the white bandage that covered it. "Then has the fucking cheek to kiss me like nothing ever happened."

Puck stayed silent, mulling over her words. Santana glugged the contents, swaying slightly as the liquor warmed her stomach and infected her brain.

"You don't know how fucking lucky you are Lopez." He whispered, his stare fixated on the wooden countertop of the bar.

Anger flashed through the Latina as she heard the words come from his mouth.

"What the fuck? Lucky! How the fuck am I lucky Noah!" She did yell this time, catching the attention to several bystanders who were happily drinking in the gloomy pub.

A scowl fell on her face as she glanced around the room to deter the glare of the fellow drinkers in the bar.

"At least she's still fucking alive. At least you can still make it up to her, fuck." This has been the first time Santana ever heard an angry Puck, she flinched at his reaction - waiting for him to elaborate on his sudden outbreak. But as the silence invaded their conversation for a few minutes, she realised he wasn't going to.

"Puck?" She said softly, reaching across the gap between them to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Her name was Lily. She's my wife."

* * *

><p><em>Puck had a pretty decent life. Nice studio apartment, hot piece of ass for a wife, good job which he just received a promotion from, and a banging car. And right now, he felt pretty fucking good driving down 42nd street in his black Ford Mustang, window open, cool breeze battling against the heat that crossed it. It was sunny, birds singing and all the cliché crap about how nice the day is.<em>

_He'd just pulled up into the parking basement of his apartment building. As he shut off his engine, clambered out his car and made his way up to his place. Entering the building he was greeted by his wife, a tall, blonde haired, green eyed beauty with a smile that could light up the room._

_"Evening baby." He said as she bounded up to him, pressing her lips to his._

_"You're home early." The blonde uttered as her arms slid around the back of his neck."_

_"Mhmm, have I ever told you how much I love you?" He whispered into her lips._

_"I think this shows me hubby." Lily muttered, raising her hand and watching as the sun enhanced the silver band that lay on her ring finger._

_"True that baby." Puck mumbled, wrapping his arms tightly around the blonde's waist. Their kiss deepened until Puck remembered the reason for his early leave._

_"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I got a promotion!" He said excitedly a Lily's face lit up into a huge grin. She squealed, mirroring the excitement in Puck's tone as she jumped up and locked her legs around his waist._

_"Just call me detective Puck." He winked, staring into her beautifully green eyes. The blonde face fell as she hopped off of him, turning to walk to the living room. Puck stood there in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing to match what he was feeling._

_"Lils?" He questioned, warily walking into the living room. His eyes set upon the blonde sitting on the sofa, her legs curled up near her chin._

_"I thought you'd be happy?"_

_"I am." She replied bluntly, not turning to meet Puck's green/brown eyes._

_"Funny way of showing it." Puck scoffed, reaching for a glass and the bottle of Jose Marti, one of the rarest beers that ever existed - and one Puck saved for celebrations._

_"I am happy... I just- You already work such long hours, I feel like I never see you anymore. And being a detective, you have tons of paperwork to do as well as solving cases."_

_"Well how else am I supposed to pay for your fucking Gucci obsession?" Puck spat, almost allowing the liquid to drip out his mouth. His eyes widened, he was surprised by his own aggression. He turned, expecting to meet saddened eyes, but instead he saw no blonde. He only heard rustling in the bedroom._

_"Babe? What you doing?" The detective called out, not wanting to enter the bedroom because he liked having a head._

_"Leaving. I've had enough of you and your fucking outbursts." She screamed, launching herself out the bedroom armed with two suitcases, already wearing her coat._

_"Lils, you don't mean that babe. I'm sorry, just stressed. You know how I get angry when I'm stressed. Please babe." Puck wandered forward, trying to catch a fleeing blonde in his arms. However she stopped, whipped his head round to stare angrily into his eyes._

_"I'm not your fucking babe anymore. And stressed! Are you fucking kidding me! You're an alcoholic Noah, you drink and drink, getting more aggressive. Your job pays for your fucking alcohol, not my so called 'Gucci obsession'. I don't even own a fucking Gucci bag!" Lily screamed, her face reddening with anger as her eyes settled on the glass Puck was clutching._

_"Fine. Fucking go. Like I give a shit." He spat, glugging the remaining contents in his glass before throwing it at the wall, shattering the crystal._

_"I want a divorce." Were the last words Puck heard as the door slammed heavily, leaving him alone._

_It was only two hours later that he was dialling her number furiously, his legs bobbing up and down in frustration as the number went straight to answerphone._

_"Lily pick up." He muttered, withholding the tears that were welling up. "Please baby."_

_But once more he was greeted with the soft voice of her answerphone. He sat the phone down, watching it, waiting for it to ring. When it did, he nearly jumped out his skin._

_"Lily?"_

_"No Detective Puckerman, it's Constable Craig. We need you down at the station, pronto."_

_"In regards to what?"_

_"An arson case. Captain put you on it. Saunders struck again."_

_Puck's face drained of blood, leaving him pasty as he heard the name he dreaded. Lewis Saunders, a trained arsonist that mercilessly killed innocent people due to his pyromanical personality. Puck had been trying to catch him for years, but he was always one step ahead of the police, always evading the detectives grasp._

_"Be there in ten." He responded, shutting his phone and practically sprinting out the door._

_Puck reached the garage, looking around for Lily's Chrysler that usually sat nicely next to his Mustang - but nothing. The pain punched him as he hopped into the car, flicking on the engine and speeding towards the station down on East 50th street._

_"I'm here. What's the deal?" Puck questioned, directing it towards Camberley, his partner of 4 years. Camberley was around 50, been a detective for years but never aspired for anything more. He had a wife once, but was now single. It was sad but he rarely spoke about his life to Puck, so the new detective never saw any reason to intrude on his personal life._

_"Saunders. Set a 4x4 on fire down on Park Avenue. Apparently no-one saw anything."_

_"Park avenue? Fuck. He's getting more public." Puck responded, flicking through the file and eyeing up the pictures of Saunders and his previous crimes._

_"Victims?" The young detective asked, throwing the file back down before heading towards the door, gesturing for his partner to follow._

_"Uhm, 23 year old female fatality. Died on arrival to hospital - 3rd degree burns." Puck's partner said, standing up and shrugging on his coat._

_"Right, so no witnesses?" They walked through the station, passing several criminals that sat chained up near the desks of several other officers._

_"Apparently not. But then again would you really wanna tell on a notorious criminal who just set a woman's car on fire?" Camberley joked, but Puck kept a straight face - his business mode was on, but Lily was still racing in the back of his mind._

_"True."_

_"Where we going?" Camberley asked as they reached an unmarked police car in the lot._

_"Identify the body. We need to know if the victim had any connections to Saunders. But we can't do that without an identity." Puck replied, starting the engine and heading off to the hospital._

_"Young female, predicted age of 23. 3rd degree burns over most of her body." The brunette doctor uttered to Camberley, smiling at Puck who stood behind him, completely unaware of the surroundings._

_"Any possessions retrieved from the fire?"_

_"We found a charred wedding ring, and the remains of a purse - but nothing solid. Autopsy is scheduled for tomorrow, teeth are still intact so we'll definitely know by tomorrow evening."_

_"Thank you doctor. Where are the possessions?" Camberley asked, stepping in front of the doctor who was clearly eyeing up the unsuspecting young detective._

_Puck's mind went blank, he'd been taking in the doctor's words - but he wasn't mentally jotting them down like he usually did. Luckily for him, the older detective was scribbling them down in rough notes on a notepad he'd extracted from his jacket pocket._

_"Detective?" The doctor whose name badge red 'Jones' asked, gesturing for the spaced out man to follow his partner._

_Puck cleared his throat before continuing, "Yeah. I'm coming."_

_They wandered down the desolate, sparkling white halls of the hospital. The corridor was so eerie, the septic smell seeped into the detectives nose, causing him to wince. The doctor turned into a large area filled with shiny, silver metal walls, containing square blocks that protruded from the walls with handles on them. _

_The disgusting metaphorical stench of death rang throughout the room as Puck realised he was standing in a morgue for the first time._

_"Here you go." Doctor Jones said, handing Camberley a clear plastic zip-lock bag with a shiny silver band in. It caught Puck's eye, so he snatched the bag, leaving the older man with a '_What the fuck' _expression pasted on his face._

_Puck dropped to his knees as he fingers gently swept over the zip, and taking out the band. He turned it in between his finger pads, examining the silver as it gleamed in the light. But something caught his eye, so he read the inscription carved on the inside;_

Forever & Ever - Noly

_It was the inscription that Puck had got designed especially for Lily's wedding band with the nickname she'd come up with one summers evening. 'Noah and Lily put together is Noly' is what she'd said. His heart dropped into his stomach, as he started crying intensely on the cold floor of Mount Sinai Medical Centre's morgue. _

_Before he could even comprehend the pain he was about to suffer, his mind went black - forehead smacking heavily against the tiles causing him to pass out._

* * *

><p>"I woke up the next morning in a hospital bed, apparently I'd smacked my head so hard it caused some damage or something. Fucking typical." He scoffed slightly, attempting to lighten the so ever depressing mood that hovered in the atmosphere.<p>

"Shit Puck. I'm so sorry." Santana mumbled, fingering the peanuts sat in the weaved bowl and chewing quietly. "I didn't know..."

"I know you didn't, that's why I told you." Puck reasoned, clenching his jaw.

Santana watched his reaction as he called for another beer, obviously an attempt to drown his sorrows. She swayed slightly, still feeling the effect of the alcohol. Her instincts told her to stand up and hug him, but their friendship had never been like that.

She mulled over the words she could say to apologise, but nothing came. So instead, she said the only words she knew could muster a grin from Puckerman's face;

"You can touch my boobs if you want."

Puck left out a throaty laugh, trying not to choke on the peanut he just put in his mouth. Instead of responding he reached out, hovering over her boob before punching her lightly in the arm.

"Nah it's cool Lopez. Besides, they don't belong to me." He winked, causing the Latina to raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Wha-"

"Come on Santana, don't be stupid." Puck muttered, glugging down a Budweiser the bartender had slid over to him. "She obviously still loves you."

Before Santana could argue with him, her phone buzzed from her jacket. She reached into the pocket and fumbled with all the belongings inside before whipping it out;

"Hello?"

"Santana, it's Quinn."

"Hey Q, what's up?" She questioned, holding a finger up to Puck as she edged out the door of the bar into the cool, crisp New York night.

"I need to tell you something. And I'm not supposed to tell you, and I've been keeping it for a while and you're gonna hate me and-" Quinn stuttered, Santana sensed the worry through the phone and stopped her before she could ramble on.

"Whoah Q, calm your tits. Take a breather and tell me what's wrong?" Santana giggled lightly, enjoying the sound of Q, the put-together Lawyer who never showed anything to worry about, even major drug-crime cases she handled in court.

"The other day," Quinn hesitated, taking a deep breath, "When you were crying, I went to see Britt."

Santana flinched at the name; it still mixed up a bitter taste on her tongue even though the tingle still remained in her lips from where the dancer had kissed her. Taking in Quinn's words, she knew her best friend had lied to her - and the anger kicked in.

"You lied."

"I lied." Quinn repeated.

"Why?" Santana asked, asking two questions at once and seeing which one Quinn would pick up on.

"Because you were hurting, you'd broken down in my arms and I hated her for what she did."

"What changed?" The Latina mumbled, kicking around a little rock that was by her feet as her fist balled up against her side.

"Brittany told me something about the night she left San. There's more to what meets the eye." Quinn tried to reason, but knew this was around the point Santana would start yelling and avoid the conversation.

Santana's nails dug into her palm, leaving dents at the skin. She winced at the pain, knowing her best friend lied to her and that she knew something about the one person Santana cared most about in this world - and purposely withheld the information.

"Please just listen to me this one time Santana."

"No." Santana hissed, clenching her jaw so tightly she felt her teeth loosen from her gums.

Quinn decided instead of convincing the Latina to listen, she'd blurt out the one word which she knew would stew inside Santana's brain, rattling it to the point where she'd have to find out.

"Bianca Lopez."

Santana's face fell from its frown, morphing into a confused expression at the words her best friend had just spoken.

"Don't bring my _mother_ into this." The brunette spat, a sour, acidic bile rising in the back of her throat at the memory of that night, and the words her mother had said.

"Santana please! Just let me ex-"

Santana flipped her phone, cutting off the blonde on the other end of the line. She felt her heart pounding furiously, almost to the point where it ached at the excessive workout it was doing. She just wanted to punch something, anything - so her feet carried her down an alleyway, and her fist collided with an abandoned, broken sofa which was currently occupied by a sleeping hobo.

Her feet kicked at it, but she couldn't feel anything. The sleeping homeless man jumped up at the vibration that the impacts made against the sofa, as well as the scream Santana let out before turning on her heels and storming towards the bar.

Her brain rattled with Quinn's words, why did she mention her mother? What did her mum have to do with Brittany leaving? Santana's mind raced with thousands of possibilities, but none of them seemed plausible.

Entering the darkened bar, her eyes immediately scanned for Puck who was leaning against the bar, flirting with a blonde waitress dressed in a tiny black skirt and very revealing white blouse. Her legs carried her forward towards the detective as she hooked his arm, spinning him round to face her.

"Puck. I'm going home."

"Whoah, Lopez calm down. Who was on the phone?" He asked, cupping her wrist with his fingers and squeezing tightly

"Quinn. Just," Santana pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, trying to calm herself down. "Just don't ask any questions. I'll speak to you tomorrow or something. Thanks. And bye."

Puck stood in front of her, attempting to read the Latina as she was clearly infuriated by the phone call. Instead of arguing he released her wrist and watched the Latina as she practically sprinted out the bar, leaving him with a hefty bar tab.

* * *

><p>Santana approached her apartment door, giving it a swift kick as she unlocked the door.<p>

"Brittany!" She yelled, her heart still pounding heavily. The blonde sat on the sofa, her eyes wide at Santana's obviously furious state.

"San, what's wr-"

"What the fuck does my mom have to do with you leaving?" The Latina hissed, grasping her keys tightly as they dug against her palm.

"What? How did you-" Brittany stood, her hands twiddling together nervously at the sight of the brunette shaking with anger.

"What the fuck does my mom have to do with you leaving?" Santana repeated, not wanting any questions about the origin of this knowledge.

"Santana I really don't-" The blonde whispered, almost to the point where Santana didn't hear her.

The Latina looked up meeting the worried blue eyes that were gazing at her, slamming the door with anger.

"Don't what Britt? Don't want to talk about this? Well tough fucking shit. You can't do this. Can't come walking back into my life, with some random fucking guy, then kissing me and looking after me. It doesn't fucking work like that."

She hissed, waving her arms around in anger. Her heart sank as she witnessed the blonde cower against her words; Brittany was actually scared of Santana - something the brunette wished to never see.

"Don't yell at me Santana."

"Just fucking tell me Brittany. I'm fed up of dodging the subject." Santana reasoned, her voice lowering at the sight that made her heart sadden.

"Y-y-your mom..." The blonde gulped, shifting her weight onto the other leg as she stroked up and down her own goose bump covered arms. "She's the reason I left."


	12. twelve

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Twelve<strong>

Santana's lungs clenched at the words that ran through her brain as she ran around central park, iPod blaring through her headphones into her ears. The sun was beating down on her olive skin, pricking it with its gentle warmth.

After deciding to take a break, she sat down on a park bench, resting her elbows against her thighs, putting her head in her hands.

Her eyes darted around the park, meeting several happy couples holding hands and kissing each other sweetly as they walked in complete bliss through the green blades of grass. Santana sighed heavily, shaking her head at the sight.

She proceeded to the nearest kiosk, purchasing a bottle of water with a couple of $1 notes she kept in her bra when going out to jog. The teenage vendor wavered his eyes over the toned abs showing through Santana's black sports bra and lycra running shorts.

"Eyes up here crater face. Call me when you're balls drop, and I'll happily return them to their rightful place with my right foot."

Santana growled, shoving two notes into the guys hands and walking away. She glugged heavily, feeling relieved as the cold liquid dribbled down her throat, cooling her body.

The sun was nice, but she could feel the sheen layer of sweat that covered her body. It was nothing like the dirty sweat she felt after going into a burning building in a full fire-fighting uniform - but it still made her feel grubby.

So she stretched her muscles once more, making sure she didn't injure herself, and jogged towards her apartment.

It only took around twenty minutes to get there, but by the end of it she was glad the feeling of a cold shower was there to greet her. Stepping into her apartment was refreshing, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she smiled at the fact it was empty.

Dan hadn't been there for a while, actually Santana had a hard time remembering the last time she saw that guy. But she shrugged off the thought, not wanting to reminisce too much.

She walked to her bedroom, undressing dropping her clothes in various places before entering the bathroom. After climbing into shower, the cold water pellets that battled against her skin sent a fresh feeling all over her body.

Santana closed her eyes, feeling the liquid wash over her face, removing the dirt as she revelled in the sensation of having an empty apartment for once.

* * *

><p>"<em>Your mom. She's the reason I left."<em>

_The blonde finished, darting her eyes to look at the ever so interesting floor as tears welled up behind her beautiful blue orbs. Instinctively, Santana walked over to her, grabbing her shoulders and pushing the blonde head of hair into the crook of her neck to comfort her._

_"Why?" The latina croaked out after a few seconds of hearing the blondes tears reducing into quiet whimpers. Her hands found the Brittany's chin, lifting it to stare into her red-rimmed eyes._

_"That night, your mom came to the apartment looking for you. I opened the door and sneered at me, which I've learnt to ignore so it wasn't that big of a deal. But when we sat on the sofa, she said she wanted to talk to me about something - and not wanting to be rude I agreed, since y'know, it's your mom and all."_

_Santana opened her mouth to interrupt, but Brittany pressed her index finger to the soft lips of her ex-girlfriend, asking to carry on. The Latina nodded, before the blonde continued;_

_"She said that you meeting me was the worst thing that ever happened to the Lopez family, and that I was never going to be good enough for you. She was just so mean and I didn't know what to do."_

_A tear trailed down the pale skin of the dancer's cheek, but it was wiped away by Santana's thumb pad as she read the sadness in those piercing blue eyes._

_"I asked her to see past the fact that we're both women, but she refused. So I told her how in love with you I am, and that I was never going to let you down. But she started screaming at me in Spanish. I didn't know what she was going on about and I got so scared San, I just didn't know what to do!"_

_Brittany cried out, pressing her forehead against Santana's shoulder asking for comfort. Which the Latina's body responded too, her arms slid around the blondes back, pressing them together. Santana guided both of them down to sit on the sofa, and Brittany took the brunettes hands. _

_The Latina flinched at the contact, not wanting to pull away and upset the dancer more, but also not wanting to endure the pain. However, she decided she'd rather cross an ocean of hungry piranhas before seeing Brittany cry. Something which didn't settle well with the walls built around her heart._

_"She said that I'd made you into something you're not, that I had completely disgraced the Lopez family. When I argued, she slapped me."_

_Santana's blood boiled at the words, her jaw clenched as went to stand up. Brittany read her movements before they happened, and placed her hands on the brunette's shoulder, preventing her from proceeding._

_"I knew I deserved it-"_

_"No Britt you-" The Latina interrupted, cupping one of Brittany's cheeks and marvelling over the colour contrast between the tan and pale skin._

_"Don't. I did deserve it. I took away their only daughter from them."_

_"You didn't take me. I walked away from them." Santana responded, as the tears continued to spill over, leaving salty tracks on her cheeks._

_"Anyway, she told me I could never give you the family you dreamed of, or give you what you wanted. That we couldn't ever be together the way a normal family could, and that I wasn't what you'd wanted and I never could be. After I stopped crying, she reached into her purse and brought out a notepad or something, which was yours. Reading through it was heart-breaking, but it made me see things a little clearer."_

_Santana racked through her memory, trying to recollect anything that would have that effect on Brittany._

_"My diary." She concluded, sucking on her teeth angrily._

_"It said how you were gonna grow up and marry a prince. Who could supply you with everything you wanted and give you the family you dreamed of. I didn't have anything to say in response, and my heart broke but I knew you wanted all these things that I couldn't give to you." Brittany finished, welling up once more at the memory._

_She was shaking by the time Santana leant over and hugged her. The Latina hated her mother for doing what she did, she was concealing all the anger she felt because she had a tendency to take it out on other people - and because Brittany was in front of her, she'd probably be the victim. So she swallowed hard, hoping the anger would subside as she tried to form her words;_

_"Britt. Look at me." Brittany lifted her head up, her eyes gleaming in the light as it reflected off the tears welled up near her eyelids._

_"I wrote those things before I met you. I hadn't planned to meet you when I was 5. Hell I hadn't planned to meet Quinn when I was that age, and we've been friends since I was 7."_

_"I know but-"_

_"No buts, Britt. I loved you. I was with you, and there's plenty of ways we can have kids. You're my family and I never needed anything more." Santana spoke sincerely, her eyes flickering in between each one of the piercing blue eyes that were staring at her. They stayed that way for the night, just embracing each other on the couch as both of them sobbed._

* * *

><p>The shower was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Santana flinched, hoping it wasn't the grease ball Dan.<p>

"Yes?"

"Sorry, it's just me. Just wondering if anyone was in there."

Brittany said softly, a small smile formed on Santana's face at the familiarity of the situation - usually ending in a cramped shower. She shrugged off the thoughts, feeling the uneasiness of the memory as she shut off the water, and stepped out into a fluffy white towel. She tucked it under her armpit to hold it up, not wanting to be overexposed to Brittany.

_Like she hasn't seen it before _ran through her mind, but once again, she ignored it.. She opened the door to a flustered Brittany, dressed in yoga pants and a tight tank top that failed to cover a tiny bit between her pants. Santana gulped at the sight, realising she was just being stared at;

"Sorry. I'm out now. All yours."

Santana murmured, stepping forward and into her bedroom to change. A burning sensation formed on the back of her head as she dabbed her hair dry with a spare towel, informing her that she was being watched.

The Latina cleared her throat as she turned around to see Brittany's mouth drooped into an 'o' shape and her eyes wide - before the blonde's face snapped back into a blank expression after realising she'd been gawping.

"Uhm, yeah. Show. I mean shower." Brittany stuttered, a flush crossing her face as she closed the door with one final glance at the Latina.

_Oh shit _was all Santana could think as she dressed into her FDNY t-shirt and jeans, before heading off to work.

* * *

><p>When the brunette arrived, she entered her office to find Puck sitting comfortably on her chair, feet up on the desk.<p>

"Make yourself at home then." She mumbled sarcastically, putting her coffee cup on the top and sitting opposite him.

"I think I have babe." He winked, straightening up and swinging from side to side. "This would be a great sex chair." He added, thrusting slightly to the Latina who just rolled her eyes.

"Anyways, just thought I'd inform you of the case update. Since your girl's part of it."

"She's not my girl." Santana scowled, grabbing her coffee and sipping tentatively.

By this point, the brunette was getting rather concerned with her feelings - she'd built up all this preparation, ready for the pain she knew was coming. But it hadn't, it'd been at least a few days and she still wasn't feeling anything.

In some ways it was better, because if Puck had made a comment like that a month ago, she probably would've broken down right there in her office, in front of him.

"Okaaaaaay then." He said, throwing the file over to the Latina. She picked it up and scanned the contents, not really understanding all the police words used.

"Um..."

"We found traces of broken glass near the window." Puck started, realising how obvious that sentence sounded, "Meaning broken glass that didn't belong to the shattered window."

"Right. And this is to do with me because?" Santana questioned, closing the file and waving her hands about in anticipation.

"No reason really, just thought you'd like to know that your gi- Brittany was victim to an arson attack. Forensics found traces of alcohol inside the shards of glass - but they're still investigating to find out what type of bottle it was."

Santana's heart jumped up her throat. _Fuck_.

"S-Someone tried to kill Britt?" She asked, her hands shaking along with the paper. Her brain told her to leave the station, run back to the apartment and lock Brittany in a room, never allowing her to leave.

"Yeah, and I doubt with the skill that came behind that attack, she's safe now."

The Latina jumped out her seat, standing rigid whilst the anger coursed through her veins. Puck mirrored her sudden movement; _damn he has reactions like a ninja_ she thought to herself.

"What do you mean 'with the skill that came behind that attack'?" Santana asked, taking a step towards the door ready to leave.

"Well, whoever it was knew what they were doing. It was aimed perfectly through a window, ensuring the whole apartment was burned. There was just the right amount of liquor to spread around the area, effectively burning the whole thing within ten minutes. Barely enough time to get out. She was lucky that you were there, otherwise she'd be dust right now." Puck said, watching the face of the Latina twist painfully. "The arsonist was definitely a professional."

Santana thought carefully about his words, thinking if she hadn't responded to the call, or if she'd left when she'd been told too - Brittany wouldn't be alive right now. She sat down, clutching at her chest at the thought that Brittany could be dead right now. But suddenly, she remembered the words Puck had said. Brittany almost didn't have enough time to escape, which means she could've been.

"You said barely enough time. That she had barely enough time to get out. Meaning she could have?"

Puck mulled over the words, realising something that hadn't come to him before. He flicked through the files, searching through the statement Brittany had given him in the hospital, only hours after the fire.

"Like it was done for the reason that she could get out?" Santana added, not knowing whether he'd realised that before.

"Shit. You're a better detective than I am. I gotta get going, talk to the Captain 'bout this."

Santana shrugged, a smug pasted her face as she winked at Puck. "Maybe I should do your job seeing as you're shit at it."

"Shut up Lopez." He retorted, waving as he walked out the door. She waved back, walking over to her chair before settling into it, where she remained doing paperwork for the rest of her work day.

* * *

><p><em>Santana walked into the silent apartment. The only light was the moon, which beat down through the patio windows and highlighting the empty dining table. She sauntered over to it, placing her keys and jacket down before unbuttoning her shirt as she walked into the bedroom.<em>

_Her eyes glistened as she watched a beautiful blonde turn in her bed, mumbling something incoherent. Her blonde locks splayed all over the pillow, clutching on as if she thought it was a person._

_"S'ntana" Brittany muttered in her sleep, the Latina's heart melted at the sound. _

_She loved knowing her beautiful blonde girlfriend was dreaming of her. And she headed towards the bed, shrugging off her shirt and dropping it on the floor; the dancer turned and leant up on one elbow;_

_"San?"_

_"I'm here baby." Santana responded, crawling up beside the blonde and sliding under the covers, pressing her chest up against Brittany's back. She jumped at the contact, not realising where the soft voice had come from until the Latina was behind her._

_"Mhm, morning baby." Brittany whispered as she turned over into the brunettes embrace, nuzzling her face into the Latina's neck._

_"You smell all smokey." She added, Santana smiled sadly as she felt the blondes nose scrunch against her neck._

_"Sorry. I had my first 10-47 today. Car crash gone bloody." She muttered in a shaky voice. Brittany pressed a kiss to Santana's neck, sensing the fear and cupped her cheek - lifting their heads level._

_"San are you alright?"_

_"I just saw my first dead body." She said, remembering the horrific sight of a young woman, around 20 years old, with no head. _

_It had reminded Santana of Brittany, her head was basically sitting in the passenger seat, the blonde locks covered the pretty face._

_"Car collision, the other guy had an unsecured grating on the top of his car, went straight through her windscreen. We were responsible of finding her as the car was basically crushed, due to the impact. I was first on scene."_

_Brittany watched as a single tear dropped out Santana's eye. She slid her arm around her neck, pulling their foreheads together._

_"Baby it's fine. I'm sorry you had to see that."_

_"It's my job." Santana responded, feeling the hot breath of her girlfriend on her face as Brittany peppered kisses on every piece of available skin._

_"I love you. Always have, always will."_

_"Ditto." Santana replied, leaning in and capturing the blondes lips between her own - it was intense, but romantic. Their tongues met in a sensual oral battle, but it wasn't the type that ended in them undressing and ravishing each other._

_It was fuelled by love. _Such a fucking cliché _Santana thought, but dismissed the thought considering she had the most beautiful blonde underneath her._

_"Go to sleep baby, and if you have a nightmare I'll be here for you. I always am and always will be. I love you Santana Lopez, never forget that."_

_Brittany muttered as they parted lips, she wrapped her long arms around the Latinas frame, pulling them as close as physically possible. Santana smiled and closed her eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep with the love of her life in her arms._

* * *

><p>Santana's day went slower than expected, the paperwork seemed never-ending and by the end of it, she just wanted to go home and sleep. It was a Tuesday, so she got off at 6pm.<p>

Walking home was nice, the sun was just setting and there was a slight chill in the air. Her thoughts were still trained on the arson attack on Brittany's flat, wondering what she'd be doing if things had been different. If she'd gone after Brittany when she'd left, demanding a reason? What if she'd turned up two minutes later because she stopped at a traffic light?

The thoughts were eating her alive as she entered her apartment building. It'd been quite awkward with Brittany ever since their talk two days ago, and Santana had been staying with Rachel and Quinn, who convinced her to return home. She sucked in a large gulp of air, entering the living room and exhaled at the figure on the couch.

"Santana. Glad you're back. How's the hand?" Dan asked, smiling as his hand trailed up and down Brittany's arm.

She was lying against him, reading a book whilst his chest pressed against her back. His arms were encircled around her, and this stung Santana with jealousy. She'd thought her and Brittany were maybe sorting things out, but apparently not. Dan was still fucking there.

"Fine. Thanks _Dan_."

"Should know better than to play with fire." He chuckled, before Brittany closed the book and nudged him in the ribs. Only Santana wished it hadn't been a playful one with his eyes trained on Brittany's ass as she got up.

"Hey." Brittany mumbled, walking over to Santana and standing awkwardly in front of her. "How was your day?"

"Good. A lot of paperwork though." The Latina replied, smiling at Brittany. The blonde smile back, before grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

"I hadn't heard from you since our talk." Brittany said, trying to look deep into the chocolate brown eyes and search for any sign of emotion. But Santana refused to meet the stare, and focusing on her brand new pair of Vans.

"What talk?" Dan interjected, coming up and wrapping his arm around Brittany's shoulder. Santana glared at him and shrugged off Brittany's hand, who instantly looked sad at the loss her touch.

"Don't think it's anything to do with you actually Dan, right Britt?" Santana smirked at him, watching his eyes narrow.

"Actually yeah Dan, do you mind going? San and I need to talk." She added.

Watching his arm drop from her shoulders, and his face fill with embarrassment due to the rejection was probably one of the best things Santana had ever seen.

"Yeah, bye Dan." Santana smiled spitefully, and watched happily as he grabbed his jacket, exiting in a huff.

Brittany stepped backwards, and turned towards the couch. As much as the Latina liked to think she didn't want to know the deal with Dan, she did. So she plucked up the courage walking over the sofa, and sat down to start the possibly-painful conversation.

* * *

><p>"Britt? What's the deal between you and Dan?" She asked, fumbling with her fingers nervously as Brittany glanced at her.<p>

"San, I already said. We're just friends."

"With the way he touches and looks at you I highly doubt that." Santana mumbled, trying not to sound too jealous. There was a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, whilst the Latina could almost hear the cogs spinning in Brittany's mind.

"Santana, are you jealous?" She questioned, using her forefinger to tilt up the Latina's chin so they were looking at each other.

"What kind of a question is that?" Santana retorted, swiping Brittany's finger away with her hand. However the blonde caught her hand, and threaded their fingers together whilst looking deep into Santana's eyes.

"He's gay Santana. We're friends, that's it. He's just affectionate, a touchy feely person." Brittany said quietly, raising her eyebrows slightly to show how honest she was being.

The brunette looked into the piercing blue eyes she knew were reading her like a book. She knew there was no point in pretending like she was jealous, plus it's not like she couldn't be - they were together for years, _until she left_. The words burned into Santana's mind, causing her to flinch away from the blondes touch.

"Why is he hanging around here all the time then?" Santana questioned, getting up and walking towards the kitchen.

Brittany followed, hopping up onto the kitchen counter and swinging her legs, causing thuds to form as her heels banged against the pine cabinet underneath.

"Well, about an hour after arriving at the hospital, I found him crying in the corner of the stairwell. So I asked him what was wrong, and he told me his apartment had just been burned down. Apparently an arsenal attack or something?"

"Arson." Santana corrected, smiling slightly at her mistake.

"Yeah anyways, an arson attack. Apparently he heard a crack and went into his living room to find broken glass, a broken bottle and a fire. He got out of there but was already fire engines and ambulances waiting for him. We got talking, he told me all about his life, and I offered our place to stay until he got back up onto his feet."

Brittany stated. Santana turned to see a smile pasted on her face, watching her make coffee. "Want one?"

"If you don't mind, bla-"

"Black with a dash of cream, and two sugars." Santana finished, slightly embarrassed at her memory and sudden intrusion in the sentence.

"You remembered." The dancer smiled sadly, something which didn't go unnoticed by the Latina who just ignored it. She handed Brittany the mug, brimmed full with dark brown liquid, who brought her lips up and sipped tentatively.

Santana eyed the movement, watching Brittany's tongue sweep over her sumptuous pink lips before pressing them to the porcelain, sipping the liquid. Then rolling her lips together to savour the taste.

The Latina was transfixed on the marvellous shape and licked her own lips in response. She could feel herself heating up, and not due to the coffee she'd consumed.

* * *

><p>"San?" Brittany questioned, raising her eyes to show she was awaiting a response to something the brunette didn't hear.<p>

"Sorry?" The Latina responded, shaking her head out of the state she'd been in.

"I said you never answered my question. Are you jealous?" Brittany questioned calmly, taking another sip of the hot liquid.

"No. I don't care whether you're with him or not." Santana answered quickly, realising how transparent she was to the blonde.

"You know, you don't have to act tough and talk tough all the time San. I know it's just a front to protect yourself from your own vulnerability but you don't have to around me."

"Yes I do." The brunette answered once again too quickly. The blonde sighed heavily, placing down her mug and sliding down the cabinet before walking over to Santana.

"I miss you San."

Instead of falling into the dancers arms like she'd dreamed, fury burned her veins, sending anger flooding through her body. Her eyes narrowed, and she felt her teeth grind before clenching tightly together. She took a step back and glared into the deep blue eyes that were currently full of hurt.

"What did I do wrong? I never hurt you, I never lied to you, I never broke my promises, I never stopped until you were happy. But most importantly, I never gave up on you. Yet, you gave up on me so easily. You left me hanging like I deserved to be let go without an explanation. You couldn't even hang around to tell me what I'd done wrong - I know you've said everything about my mom, but you said you didn't want to be with me anymore. You said you didn't want me Britt."

Santana spurted out, turning away from the blonde knowing she couldn't look at the hurt in Brittany's eyes any longer.

The dancer took a few more steps towards Santana, not talking until she was staring into the deep chocolate eyes. The Latina watched the blonde take a deep breath, scared by the words she didn't know were coming;

"If I'd told you about your mom right then and there you would've convinced me to stay. I wanted to give you an opportunity to live without me, to meet a guy and have a baby with him - the way it was supposed to be."

Santana tried to interject, but she was met by the blondes forefinger pressed to her lips,

"I know this sounds really cliché and like I've read New Moon way too many times, but it kinda inspired me, you know? I felt Edwin's pain. I wanted you to have everything you'd ever wanted since you were a kid, a kid that truly was half yours and half the person you loved. The only way you would let me go is if I hurt you, if I told you I didn't want to be with you."

Santana whimpered as she listened to the words coming out her ex-girlfriends mouth was more painful than she comprehended. Her face contorted into a painful expression, whilst her heart winced at the glass shard that agonisingly twisted through the pumping organ.

"Just because I let you go San, doesn't mean I wanted too." Brittany added, looking down to their hands which were only centimetres apart.

Ocean blue orbs darted her gaze between the hands and deep brown eyes, before making a bold move and reaching across to grab it. Santana wanted to retract her hand, but her body wasn't allowing her too - so instead, she twisted her palm to thread their fingers together and run her thumb over the smooth, silky skin of Brittany's hand.

Santana was arguing in her head on what to do next, her heart and brain were telling her two completely different things. But before she could decide, Brittany spoke;

"Am I too late?" She asked, trying to withhold the unshed tears that were building up behind her eyelids.

Santana sighed, she so badly wanted to say no. But her heart was telling her that she couldn't handle the dancer walking out of her life again. She did it once, what was preventing her from doing it again?

"I don't know Britt. I honestly don't know." The brunette said honestly, watching as the tears finally became too much for Brittany to contain, they ran down her cheek, as she blinked painfully slowly.

Santana reached out and thumbed away some of the tears, her fingers lingering a little longer than she'd wanted them too.

"I'll wait forever if I have too, just to be yours again." Brittany whispered as Santana pulled her into her chest, cradling her and stroking the nape of her neck with her fingertips. She finally decided to take notice of her heart instead of brain, and let it take full reign of her words.

"You have no idea how closely I wrapped myself around your heart Brittany Pierce."

Her heart thudded loudly against her ribcage; she felt the smile creep onto the dancers face as she listened to the sound. Brittany's arms wound around Santana's waist, pulling their bodies close together. Santana's heart suddenly felt free, like it had been caught under a rock and Brittany had lifted it off, allowing herself to breathe a little easier.

"Edward, by the way, not Edwin." Santana corrected her previous speech, looking straight into the blonde's eyes as her lips curled up ever so slightly

"I knew you were a dork." Brittany whispered, leaning together and pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss. Santana moaned at the contact, the blonde responded by smiling into it.

* * *

><p>Brittany tried to pull out of the kiss, but Santana's body once again had different ideas - and slid up into the blonde's hair, securing their faces together and deepening the kiss.<p>

Brittany's tongue flicked against the Latina's lip, asking for entrance which Santana allowed. Their tongues met, sliding around each other and memorising the familiar feel. However the tears were still falling and Santana wished she was strong enough to pull herself away and leave.

The fingers on Brittany's hands that hovered on Santana's waist grazed the brunette's hipbone. She could feel herself sobbing heavily, her brain screaming to pull away but her body having other ideas.

Santana felt her shoulders starting to shake and her knees buckle as Brittany bit gently on her bottom lip. Her hand slid down Santana's chest, covering and playing with the hem of her shirt. Without hesitation, she whipped off the Latina's t-shirt, revealing the toned abs of the fire-fighter.

Brittany's hands palmed the soft skin as Santana slides her fingertips down between the dancers breasts, popping the buttons open in succession as their lips part for oxygen. She didn't even bother looking into the piercing blue eyes as she pushes the shirt off her strong shoulders.

"Sofa." She whispered into the blondes lips, before pressing them together again in a fierce kiss.

Santana's heart suddenly felt heavy again as it pounded against her ribcage and her legs moved forward, pushing Brittany backwards into the living room until the back of her legs hit the arm of the sofa.

They tumbled backwards, Santana settling in between Brittany's legs as her mouth moved to the blonde's neck, sucking and nipping gently at the skin there.

Hands roamed over the bare skin of Santana's back, and nimble fingers snap open the bra, sliding it down her arms and chucking it somewhere in the apartment.

She suddenly felt very bare, very vulnerable as her breasts pressed against Brittany's covered one. Instead of hopping off, she rolled, allowing Brittany to straddle her whilst she snapped open the pink bra that concealed the dancers breasts.

After throwing the bra behind her, she leant up to take a pink nipple between her teeth - causing a groan to escape the blondes lips whilst a flush crept across her skin.

Santana's perfectly manicured nails dug into the short shorts covering Brittany's ass whilst the long, pale, slender fingers scraped across the Latina's abs, playing with the button on Santana's jeans. The blonde rolled, not expecting the edge of the sofa and they fell into a heap onto the floor.

Santana giggled and hugged Brittany closer, assaulting her neck with kisses as Santana's fingers played with the waistband of Brittany's underwear, before hooking over her shorts and lingerie, pulling them down and throwing them into the room.

She found the blondes lips again, sucking at her bottom lip and running her tongue along it, caressing the skin. Before she could the thoughts in her body, telling her to get up and run far away, she was pressing kisses down the toned pale abs, tonguing circles around her bellybutton which elicited a groan.

Brittany's fingernails scratched at the Latina's dark hair, scrunching and clenching it tightly as the brunette dived lower. Her stomach was twisting painfully under every kiss, tears still seeping out the corners of her eye as she tasted broken promises and shattered hearts.

She dipped her head, feeling the head radiating off Brittany's centre before running her flat tongue through the wet folds, marvelling at the taste.

_She's gonna leave you. She did it once. She'll do it again._

_Shut up. Shut up._

Completely unaware of the mental argument Santana was having with herself, Brittany arched her back - pressing her centre further into Santana's mouth. The Latina's tongue darted inbetween the folds, flicking against Brittany's swollen nub. Her teeth grazed against it, causing the blonde to whisper her name as Santana's fingers played with the dancer's nipples softly.

Santana was fighting her own battle as she carried on pleasing the blonde. Her tongue worked wonders as Santana's mind raced, her heart wrenching with pain as her lungs slowly strangled her.

She fought with the thoughts, but anger flashed through her as she remembered what Brittany had done. She'd left. She had left, willingly breaking Santana's heart.

In the fury, she bit down on Brittany's clit, sending her over the edge as her thighs clamped around her head. Her heart pounded furiously listening to the blonde groan as Santana thrusted two fingers into her, curling them in order to prolong the orgasm. Brittany's body shuddered violently, thrashing against the hardwood floor loudly and screaming the Latina's name.

Santana slid back up the blonde body, peppering kisses on the toned abs and chest, neck and jaw until she captured the blonde's lips in an angry kiss.

Brittany sensed the feeling, and nipped at Santana's bottom lip, dragging it out as far as it could go until returning it to kiss. Santana gasped, forcing her tongue into Brittany's mouth and caressing every available area of the blonde's mouth.

She moaned under Brittany's fingertips, even after eight months she knew exactly where to touch. Her fingers dipped into Santana's underwear after discarding the Latina's jeans, and ran through the wet folds causing Santana to marvel over the familiar touch.

Even though she'd slept with people during those eight months, they'd never been able to fill the hunger that grew within the pit of the Latina's stomach. Their lips returned in a heated kiss, Santana couldn't shake the voice in the back of her head telling her Brittany could just leave again.

Before the brunette could pull away, Brittany parted their lips and looked deep into the brown eyes.

"You alright?" She questioned, panting heavily whilst her fingers worked wonders on Santana's centre.

The Latina squeezed her eyes shut, nodding before biting on her bottom lip and rocking her hips rhythmically against the blonde's slender fingers. Brittany's thumb brushed across Santana's clit, causing her knees to buckle as she collapsed into the blonde's body after seeing stars.

She panted heavily, revelling over the euphoric feeling that washed through her body. About ten minutes of lying on the living room floor silently wrapped in the dancers arms, Santana heard Brittany's breath slowing down and tiny snores escaped the mouth.

* * *

><p>Her face was expressionless as she crawled out of the dancers embrace, throwing a blanket over her and clambering back into her clothes. Clenching her eyes shut and restraining the tears, she shut the front door quietly, heading to the elevator and waiting. Her foot tapped impatiently against the carpet, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the cool metal of the elevator doors.<p>

The doors opened suddenly, causing the Latina to stumble into the dim lit lift. She gasped, whilst pressing her palm to her chest in attempt to slow her heartbeat down.

"What the fuck did you do?" Santana whispered to herself, as she turned and leant against the back wall, banging her head several times against the metal.

As she walked out into the streets of New York City, she looked up to see the stars sparkling against the dark blue canvas known as the sky. Her breath was ragged, coming out in short white clouds and she started walking, not quite knowing exactly where too.

A chill ran down her spine, so she pulled up the collars on her coat, and shoved her hands into her pockets, fingering the packet of cigarettes inside. After debating whether she cared about Brittany's feelings towards smoking, she pulled out the packet and placed a stick in her mouth.

She flicked the lighter a couple of times, revealing the flame and pressed it to the tobacco. The harsh nicotine filled smoke entered her lungs, and she breathed out heavily - watching it float away into the night sky.

Her phone buzzed, and she flipped it open to reveal the LCD screen that read 'Britt Britt'. Santana didn't really know what to do at this point, so she shut the phone, ignoring the phone call and heading towards Elements - where she knew Puck would be.

"Double vodka on the rocks." She said as she entered the warmth of the bar, feeling several eyes on her as she glanced at her outfit - a skimpy tank top and skinny jeans with her hair tied up into a messy ponytail.

Puck chuckled a throaty laugh at the appearance, before sliding her a glass full of vodka and ice. Within a couple of seconds, the liquid stung the back of throat as she swallowed it.

"Wanna talk about it?" Puck questioned, leaning on the countertop and resting her elbows on the bar.

"No." Santana scowled, gesturing for a refill which Puck gladly gave in too. "And leave the bottle." He smiled, chucking a peanut at her head to catch her attention as she was staring at the clear liquid.

"Yo, space cadet. Drinking doesn't do help. I only know too well, remember?" He asked, wavering to the bar around him.

"Yeah. I know." She sighed, knowing getting drunk wouldn't help and she'd just wake up tomorrow, feeling twice as bad because of the physical pain that joined with her emotional agony. As if the bartender could read her mind, he spoke;

"You're just gonna get double teamed. Trust me. I know."

"Look Puck I didn't come here for a lecture. If you're gonna give me one tell me and I'll be on my way." She said, not wanting to sound too angry.

"Nah man. I'm here to listen unless told otherwise." He reasoned, polishing a glass and ducking behind the bar to shelve it.

"But I am gonna join you in a drink." He murmured, picking up the vodka bottle and glugging some of the contents from the bottle. Santana's eyed widened in shock at the motion, but giggled as she took a large sip, finishing off the drink.

"Shots?"

"Shots." Puck repeated, handing out two shot glasses. All Santana could do in reply was sigh and smile at the detective slash bartender.

"You're a good friend y'know that?"

"I'm a good lesbro you mean." Santana chuckled, sliding her shot glass back to him and watching as he filled it to the brim with liquor.

"Yeah Puck, yeah." She glugged the shot, wincing at the burn.

"Now shut up and pour me another drink, detective."


	13. thirteen

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Thirteen<strong>

Santana was leaning against the brick wall, revelling in the spitting rain as it hit her olive skin. She sighed heavily, listening to Puck fumble around with something next to her.

"So, we got another breakthrough on the case. The broken glass bottle shards found on the apartment floor have been identified." Puck said, locking up the door to the bar and shoving the keys back into his pocket.

"Oh yeah?" She said, straightening up and pressing her foot off the wall carefully, making sure she didn't topple over in the process.

"Yeah. Luckily it's a rare liquor, so it narrows down the place to purchase. Don't know if you've heard of it, Convalmore 24 year old scotch whiskey?" He continued as Santana linked her arm through his, listening to the words as her head spun slightly due to alcohol consumption. She grinned and laughed throatily, craving for a cigarette.

"Actually yeah. Quinn is the typical power lawyer lesbian. She drinks only the most expensive whiskey around, keeps a fucking flask inside her briefcase. Such a fucking cliché." Santana grumbled, fumbling around in her pocket for the packet of cigarettes. Once found, she whipped one out and sparked it up, inhaling the toxic fumes.

"I swear that's against like the fire-fighter code or something." Puck added, eyeing up the latina as she took a long drag on the cigarette.

"Nah. Britt doesn't like it though." She murmured, surprised that she'd brought the reason for her drinking into the conversation.

Guilt washed through her as she remembered leaving the blonde on the floor, naked and asleep. She remembered flipping down the phone, screening her call after leaving the apartment - but no part of her wished to ring her back right now in her drunken state.

_At least you put a cover over her _she whispered to herself; trying to convince herself she wasn't a bad person for leaving.

"How's it going with you two anyway?" Puck asked as they turned a corner down to Santana's apartment.

"Meh, s'alright." The bartender eyed the Latina, dropping down in amazement as he leant in and took a large sniff of her.

"What the fuck-"

"You dirty dog. You fucking slept with her didn't you!" He said excitedly, lifting his hand as if he was going to high five Santana. She glared at him, causing his hand to glide awkwardly over his mohawk.

"Shit, not a good thing again?" He asked, stopping in front of Santana's apartment and steadying the swaying Latina.

"No Puckerman." She hissed, before swaying in her step and attempting to regain her previous stance.

"I'm tired." She muttered, leaning into the muscular frame of her best friend.

"Alright, let's get you inside Lopez." He giggled, throwing his arm around the Latina's waist and hoisting her into the elevator.

Once they got to level four, Santana yawned heavily as Puck dragged her down the hallway. A few knocks on the door and two voices conversed in the background - however Santana couldn't focus as the alcohol took a hold of her, dragging her down into a drunken pit.

"Thanks Puck. We'll be in touch tomorrow." A soft, feminine said, sliding her arm around Santana's waist and holding her up.

"What are you like San. Jesus." The voice whispered, hauling the Latina into the bedroom before throwing her down onto the soft mattress.

"I can do it." Santana hissed, trying to sit up but failing horridly and stumbling back against the bed.

She felt the blonde fumble with her jeans, sliding them off her legs and untying her shoes. Santana felt Brittany's arm snake around the small of her back, hoisting her further up onto the bed until her head met the pillow.

She closed her eyes, attempting to allow the drunken hazy mess known as her brain to allow her to drift off to sleep.

But a warm body tucked beside her, pressing flush against her side and leading her heart to melt as she inhaled Brittany's sweet scent. The blonde traced circles with her fingertips on the taut stomach that was showing underneath Santana's t-shirt.

Her arm wound its way around Brittany, snuggling her closer at the contact - her brain once again cursed at her, telling her to shove the blonde out of bed and to go sleep on the couch, but her gut instincts guided her body differently. Just as she was about to nod off to sleep, she heard Brittany speak;

"I love you Santana. Always have, always will."

Santana's heart clenched, feeling the restriction on her lungs tighten at the words - her brain frazzled searching for any other reply than the one that hovered on the tip of her tongue. But she bit down, holding back the four little words she longed to say back and with that, she let herself fall into a heavy slumber.

* * *

><p>When the morning came, Santana wished Brittany had closed the curtains. The sun beat down in straight lines through the unrolled blind, highlighting the blonde locks of hair that splayed over Santana's midsection. Her heart started beating erratically at the feeling of waking up with Brittany again after all this time.<p>

But then she remembered last night, she remembered the lingering touches, heavy panting and overwhelming orgasm she'd encountered with the blonde.

And her first instinct was to jump out of bed, grab her clothes and just leave - not telling Brittany or Quinn or Rachel where she was going, just going and never coming back.

She didn't want to endure any more heartache, she'd already been through so much. She was 22 fucking years old and she'd already suffered enough agony to last a lifetime.

Santana had always been a strong woman, not really caring what people thought, not allowing anyone in, never delving more in relationships past sex - and even then she never made eye contact.

But getting to know Brittany the way she did in high school had changed everything. They'd gone to elementary school together, but Michael Lopez, Santana's father had moved away for a few years - taking Santana with her, causing her to miss out on middle school and junior high.

When they'd reconnected in freshman year, it was like fate had let both of them to that moment. They'd been together, and after a very lengthy struggle - Santana came out the closet at Senior Prom, accepting herself and declaring her love for Brittany.

Apparently the Glee club her and Britt were, in knew all along, and said 'it was about time' because they'd gotten fed up of watching the sexual tension and longing stares.

Quinn had hugged Santana after the declaration, and the Latina was very grateful for having the former head cheerleader during that time. Because if it wasn't for her - she'd never have gotten the guts to tell Brittany how she really felt, Quinn was the only person who'd ever knocked sense into the brunette.

It'd all really been like a movie, all the same fucking clichés including the struggle between Santana and the boyfriend of the girl she was in love with and the parents disapproval of the star crossed lovers.

And they'd ended up going to college, Santana dropping out after finding her true calling and Brittany going after her aspiration of becoming a world famous dancer but they'd ended up happy.

Well, until tragedy struck, but you already know the story. Santana was now lying in bed, struggling with her heart and brain, deciding which one to follow.

_Should I run? Or should I stay?_

The blonde murmured something incoherent, turning in the Latina's embrace to face plant the pillow. Her breathing became muffled and she lifted her head quickly, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the lack of breath.

The blonde mess of hair was tied up loosely in a scruffy bun; her eyes were squeezed together as the light probably stung her pupils whilst her nose was scrunched up.

Despite all the anger and frustration Santana felt, the sight of watching Brittany wake up in a not so 'morning person' way was almost too adorable to handle, and a giggle escaped her lips.

Blue eyes instantly met brown ones, and she grinned toothily, eyeing Santana up and down and examining her hair.

"You look like more of a morning person than I do San."

"For once." Santana murmured, realising the situation and hoping she was still fully clothed.

She lifted up the sheet and glanced at her half naked body, underwear, bra and t-shirt still on - and she sighed in relief, wincing at the throb that rattled her brain. She pondered to herself where this sudden headache came from, and then remembered her getting thoroughly trashed with Puck after sleeping with Britt, a subject she really didn't want to talk about right now.

She attempted to lick her lips, but surprised herself at the dryness that embedded her tongue, gums and teeth. Santana tried to summon any spit in her mouth, but instead gave up as she realised how it felt to eat cotton wool for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

"San, I think we need to talk." Brittany muttered, staring down at her fingernails and playing with the cuticles.

Santana's heart dropped, knowing she wasn't ready to have a discussion about the mind blowing, yet slightly angry sex they had last night.

"I've gotta get to work." She replied, jumping out of bed, grabbing some clothes out the dresser and half-sprinting to the bathroom to change.

She gazed at herself in the mirror, eyeing up the mop of dark hair attached to her hair and her sunken eyes. It looked like she'd had one hell of a night; unfortunately it was mostly emotional due to her empty brown eyes.

* * *

><p>Santana prepared herself, inhaling deeply before exiting and expecting to meet ocean-blue eyes filled with sadness. But instead she was greeted with the warm smell of pancakes, her stomach grumbled in response and she headed towards the kitchen.<p>

Dan was sitting on a stool by the kitchen island, his eyes fixated on the dancers toned less and ass that was visible through her lacey underwear. If she hadn't been wearing one of Santana's long baseball t-shirts, she would've clocked the dirty pervert right there and then.

Luckily for Dan, her ass was only visible when she reached up high, and as she sunk down it was covered back up by the fabric.

"Morning _Daniel_." Santana said, smirking slightly at the man.

He turned and shot her a disgusted expression before turning his attention back to Brittany, who was wiggling her butt and quietly singing along to the song on the radio.

"Hi." He replied blankly, his eyes wavering over the never ending legs of Santana's ex-girlfriend.

Anger burned her insides, but curiosity ran through her as she was intrigued to find out what his full name was - seeing as neither him nor Brittany had ever mentioned it.

"It is Daniel right?"

"Yeah." Dan responded as Santana slid behind the kitchen island, and perching on the counter closest to Brittany. The blonde gave her a sad smile, acknowledging her presence before returning to cooking and humming.

"So are you like Sting or do you have a last name?" She questioned, trying to catch his eyesight.

"Uhm..." Dan stuttered, diverting his gaze and glancing around the room. Santana watched his eyesight, and raised an eyebrow to him as he answered;

"Lewis. My full name is Daniel Lewis."

"Lewis huh? Interesting, never met anyone with a first name as their last one." Santana uttered, still suspicious by Dan's sudden intrusion into Brittany's life.

Santana reached over to the fridge, still perched on the countertop and grabbed a bottle of water, opening it and taking a swig whilst eyeing the man still ogling at Brittany.

At first glance he probably seemed like quite a catch. He had short, dark hair that spiked up in various places due to a hell of a lot of hair gel, almost to the point where it looked like he swam everywhere. His strong jaw framed his face, as well as his relatively prominent cheekbones.

The green in his eyes shone brightly, but not in a catch-your-breath kinda way, it was more of a maniacal shine that made you want to get away from the man, quickly.

Dan had a muscular build, his arms were what Puck had once named 'guns' and an obvious six pack that protruded through what seemed like most clothes, but he obviously purchased them for that effect.

Something just didn't click right with the guy, his alleged story about them meeting randomly in a hospital stairwell and him happening to have _exactly_ the same problem as she did, which somehow managed to just drop into the conversation was just too fucking weird for Santana's liking.

And the fact that he was crying in a fucking stairwell, without any visible injuries or anything? Even Brittany had come out with a few scratches from various pieces of debris that fell on her. But that wasn't the most suspicious thing about him.

The strangest thing about the man was that he didn't go off on Santana's gaydar. In high school she was a closet lesbian and a judgemental bitch, which eventually equalled the best gaydar around - but Dan just didn't beep when Santana 'scanned' him, so to speak.

The way he touched her, and the way his eyes brimmed with lust at the mere sight of the woman drove the Latina over the edge. Something she wouldn't worry about if he really was gay. Especially the way his eyes were fixated on the blonde's ass that was walking towards the bedroom.

"So Dan, how did you and Britt meet?"

"Did Bee not tell you?" He retorted, smirking at the fact that the blonde might have withheld something from the Latina.

Santana internally scoffed at his lame nickname 'Bee' - which she knew Brittany had hated ever since her ex-boyfriend Artie had called her it once in high school, from which he received the silent treatment for two days. But the Latina saw something else in his eyes, something that looked like panic and fear swirled together.

"Well, yeah. But I have a tendency to drift off into space during some conversations. Guess that was just one of them." Santana said, forcing a toothy grin onto her face.

"Right. Well my house had just been burgled, and some of my furniture was set on fire. I escaped, managing to get out just in the nick of time as my apartment burnt to a crisp." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

Santana immediately read the man, knowing he was lying. _That's not what you told Brittany_ hovered over the top of her tongue, but she bit down the sentence, deciding not to cause anything until she got a little bit more out of the man.

"Oh wow, well I'm sorry to hear about that. Obviously you didn't live in Manhattan then? Otherwise I'm sure I would've been on the scene, or heard about it at least." She exclaimed, trying to look sympathetic.

"Nope. Brooklyn. Really sucked though, had a nice ass apartment." He muttered, leaning forward and fiddling with a glass in front of him.

_Jackpot. Thank you Auntie Catalina for living there_, she said internally, knowing the area quite well as she spent many weekends there when her dad was too busy at the hospital and her mom was god knows where.

"Brooklyn? I stayed there for a while as a kid, where'd you live?" Santana asked, watching the panic in the green eyes become more intense as her questions shot out like bullets.

"Snyder Avenue, just off the Regent Road." He spat back, trying to catch the Latina out. But she was too quick for the dumb witted man, so she came back immediately with knowledge of the area.

"Snyder Avenue? Seriously? That's so weird; my Auntie's best friend lived there. Did you ever know Rita Rodriguez?"

Santana hopped off the counter, going over to break a piece off of the stack of pancakes sitting on the top. Her stomach was growling but she wasn't gonna give in just yet.

"Oh yeah, we were uhm, good friends." He responded, smiling. Santana knew she'd caught him out with the lie she just told.

"No wait, she lived in Albemarle Road."

Dan's face fell, the blood drained out as he realised she'd been tricked. She watched his hand reach into the pocket, revealing a bright yellow Zippo lighter - flicking it on and off with his thumb. Anger flashed across his eyes, darkening the colour and turning his face into an evil smile.

"I must be mistaken then." He uttered, staring deep into the chocolate brown eyes that were narrowed towards him.

"Why do you have a lighter if you don't smoke?" She questioned, nodding her head at the flame in his hand.

"I like fire." Dan started, never removing his eyesight from Santana's eyes, even when she attempted to divert it. "I like the adrenaline rush everyone gets when they see a flame, causing their hearts to skip a beat - instantly flinching because just one lick of the bright orange beauty could potentially burn them, it's like artistic pain."

* * *

><p>Santana's phone buzzed, interrupting the really creep stare she was recieving. She flipped it open and answered, still staring at Dan.<p>

"Lopez here."

"Yo, Lopez it's Puckerman. We got some good news, found the guy. Nailed his ass - he had a bottle of empty Convalmore in his trash. He said he'd never seen it before but he has no solid alibi for the night of the attack."

Santana flinched, something just didn't seem right. She stepped out onto the patio, sliding the door shut behind here.

"Really? And you're sure it's the guy?"

"Definitely. He didn't confess but I have a way of sensing these things."

The Latina sighed heavily, knowing the itch in the back of her neck that told her they'd got the wrong guy.

"Look, I need you to do some background checks on this friend of Britt's. He seems real suspicious, and I don't know - it's too convenient that he comes into her life just as her apartment burns down. I genuinely think he could be the guy Noah." The Latina said, trying to convince her lesbro that Dan was too suspicious.

"Lopez, I'm the detective here. Trust me on this one, you're just being paranoid."

"Can you just do this please?" Santana asked, needing to know something more on the guy than just what he decided to reveal.

"No Santana. Just leave it. We've caught the guy okay? Britt's safe now."

The brunette exhaled in frustration, knowing unless there was some substantial proof - Puck wouldn't risk his job to investigate her suspicions.

"Okay. Thanks. Bye." She didn't even bother allowing him time to respond as she snapped the phone shut, crossing her arms angrily and staring onto the Manhattan rooftops.

Hundreds of bright flashes shined into her eyes as the sun connected with the metal of the thousands of cars rushing about on the NYC streets.

She inhaled, and exhaled deeply - rubbing her temples with her index and middle finger in attempt to calm herself down. After taking a breather, and some fresh air - she headed back inside.

Just as she did, Brittany bounded into the room, her hair draping over her shoulders in loose curls and dressed in cut off denim shorts and a white tank top. Santana recognised her aviators attached to the blondes head, resting gently on her hair as if she was going out.

"Ready Dan?" The dancer asked, sliding her arm through the man's before standing him up and walking towards the door.

"See ya later Santana." Brittany murmured sadly, causing a pang of guilt to shoot throughout the brunette's body.

"Be careful at work Lieutenant. Fire kills." Dan added, smirking and shutting the door as they walked out.

* * *

><p>Santana had a long day at work, and when she returned to an empty apartment - her heart sunk a little. She had to admit, she didn't like the way things had panned out with Brittany.<p>

Yes the sex had been mind-blowing, but she did what high school Santana would've done, freaked and ran away. She was pushing Brittany away when really, she needed her the most. Her heart somehow, cracked just a little further at the realisation that Britt wouldn't wait forever.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity and slumbering around the apartment, she made a snap decision to go and visit Quinn. And Rachel, but unfortunately that was part of the package deal.

She knocked three times on Quinn and Rachel's apartment door, hoping she wasn't catching them at an awkward time she like had many times before.

Luckily for her, the blonde opened the door only seconds later, immediately enveloping Santana in a hug and not smelling like Berry, sweat and sex.

"San! I swear I haven't seen you in ages!" She squealed in excitement as Rachel bounded around the corner, some type of sauce on the corner of her mouth.

"Santana, how very pleasant to see you." Rachel said, smiling at the Latina who scoffed internally at the world _pleasant_ - _who the hell uses that word anymore?_

"Ditto dwarf." She retorted, forcing a smile at the diva. All three of them walked into the living room, taking their seats on the couch and armchair.

She watched as Quinn gestured to Rachel about the smudge on her face, who flushed embarrassingly and bounded off into the bathroom to clear it up.

"So what's been happening Lopez? How are you? How's Britt? More importantly, how are you together?" Quinn spat the questions at her like bullets leaving a gun. Santana was flustered by the questions and decided to take one at a time.

"I may have done something stupid. I'm not great. Don't know about Brittany and the stupid thing has to do with us 'together'." Santana finished, not wanting to see the disapproving expression she knew Quinn would have on her face.

"You didn't." The blonde deadpanned, raising one eyebrow towards the guilty Latina.

"It just kinda happened." Santana tried to reason as she met the disappointed glare of Quinn Fabray.

"I don't even know how or why, but it just did. Before I knew it I was running down to Elements and gulping down vodka by the litre." She continued, trying to make her actions seem a little bit plausible. And if not, try and make Quinn see how bad she felt by drowning her liver in liquor.

"Look, I'm not gonna yell at you. Because you already know how stupid that was - but I am just gonna ask if you think it was a positive or a negative thing?"

Santana mulled over the answer, trying to decide but resolving on the very obvious answer that even Berry would know.

"Positive. I guess. I mean, it wasn't negative. It was very, _very_ positive." She smiled, remembering the familiarity of Brittany's long slender fingers touching her...

"Whoah, wipe the drool off and stop thinking about it. Slightly uncomfortable. Plus Rach won't be happy if you gob all over her new sofa." Quinn said quickly, waving her hand around in a 'I-don't-want-to-know' motion.

"It's just got so complicated now Q, I mean I don't know if we're in a relationship, or what's going on. I'm still not over her leaving, I just... It's not as easy as it used to be." Santana cried, letting her head fall into her hands.

"Santana, look. People make mistakes and they're going to disappoint you. Especially the people you love the most. And if you can't forgive them for not being perfect, you're gonna end up alone." Quinn stated, stretching her arms out to grab the sobbing Latina's hands.

Santana knew her best friend was right, she knew she'd have to forgive Brittany because that's what they did. They had fights and made up, they were Brittany and Santana, meant to be. Soul mates. It was just that simple.

"She's the one who stuck up for you, the one who stayed up until midnight just to talk to you. She's the one whose heart flutters when she gets a call or a text from you. She's the one who's fighting for you, and the one that misses and loves you Santana. She's not perfect, no-one is. And you can't let her suffer for the rest of her life because of one stupid mistake mainly caused by your mother."

"I know. But, I just. Argh, when did things get so fucking complicated?" Santana whimpered, her brain rattling and arguing with her heart.

She wasn't pissed that Quinn hadn't told her about her mom, mainly because she knew it wasn't her place too. And hearing it from Brittany was the better way to go - but it still kinda bugged her that her best friend was taking the side of the girl who broke her heart.

"I love you Santana, but I love Brittany too. Sure I didn't really like her after seeing what she did to you, but seeing her breaking down like you'd done, just changed something. And you don't need me to tell you how broken that girl is. You can see it in her eyes." Quinn finished and Santana cried a little more, leaning forward and crying into the blondes shoulder.

"I just can't get her out my head. She's always there, everywhere I look, every where I go. I just can't seem to escape her." Santana added, sobbing even heavier than before.

Neither of them had noticed that Rachel at some point in there heart-to-heart had walked in and listened to them talking. But, surprisingly, she didn't try and interject or interrupt with her annoyingly high voice and ridiculous words.

She sat and comforted Santana, leaning over to join the hug. After a quiet and slightly awkward hug, the latina retracted into a sitting position, feeling her heartstrings loosen up slightly.

"So how is Britt, after the whole fire slash apartment burning down thing?" Quinn asked, sipping on a glass of wine Rachel had brought over.

"She's alright." Santana said, remembering the reason for coming over to talk to Quinn. "But there's this guy, that kinda hangs around her like a dog on heat. According to Britt he's gay, but he doesn't ding off on my gaydar."

"Gaydar?" Rachel questioned, furrowing her brows in confusion.

"Like radar - but for gays. You know, gaydar. Like a radar in your brain that detects gays. Oh come on Berry, come join us up here in modern day instead of dwelling the day of Yentl."

"Yentl was set in only set in the Eastern Europe in the early 1900's Santana. They didn't even know what raydars were, let alone 'gaydars'."

"Whatever man-hands." Quinn jabbed Santana in the ribs, causing her to wince as she was sure that was gonna leave a bruise.

"Anyway, Santana, you were saying?" The blonde continued, pulling the shorter brunette to her side and placing a kiss on her forehead.

Santana suddenly had an idea; one Puck had decided not to help with due to his status. She would've yelled at him, but she knew what it meant like to disappoint someone for the sake of popularity and status.

"Can you like do government searches on people Q? Like 'cause you're a lawyer and all?" Santana asked, watching Quinn's eyes narrow and examine every aspect of the request like she'd been trained to do.

"In order of doing what S?"

"I just wanna know about this guy, he's so random it just can't be coincidental. Please Q, I'm begging you." Santana pleaded, shuffling towards the blonde and attempting to put on puppy eyes.

"That hasn't worked on me the past 18 years of our friendship Santana, it's not gonna work now." Quinn said honestly, sliding her hand to thread her fingers with Rachel's.

"Okay, well then as a friend. A best friend. Please?" Santana asked once again, this time using the thing she knew Quinn couldn't refuse - a best friend request.

"Fine. What's his name?" The blonde whipped out a notepad and pen from her blazer pocket, which Santana hadn't realised she was wearing.

"Daniel Lewis. Say's he owned an apartment on Snyder Avenue in Brooklyn. 'Cept he got the location wrong, but I'm gonna give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he sucked at geography at school seeing as he pretty acts like he just came from the ice age." Santana giggled, which the Jewish girl surprisingly joined in with.

"Sure San."

"Thanks Q. I'm knackered so I'm gonna go now. Thanks for everything." Santana stood, shortly followed by Quinn and Rachel who embraced her into another three-way awkward hug.

Just as she walked down the hallway, Quinn called after her;

"If you can't get her out of your head, then maybe she's supposed to be there." She yelled, smiling at the bewildered Latina and shutting the door.

_What the hell, _Santana thought as the elevator descended.

* * *

><p>When she arrived home, her heart fluttered at the sight of Brittany snuggled up under a tiny blanket that barely managed to cover her never-ending legs.<p>

Santana shivered at the temperature drop, she could see her breath in the air and walked over to Brittany who was also shuddering at the cold air.

Santana watched the blondes face as it stayed still, her eyelids covering the beautiful piercing blue orbs that shone so brightly whenever their eyes met. She couldn't deny it, despite all the anger and pain she'd been through - having Brittany lie on their couch like the good old times seemed to make everything just disappear.

As if on cue, Brittany's eyes cracked open and saw the Latina staring at her. Her eyes immediately lit up and a huge grin spread across her face, _when she smiles she looks like an angel,_ Santana thought before stroking a blonde lock of hair behind the dancer's ear.

"Creep." Brittany teased, repeating the words Santana always used to say when she woke up to the dancer watching her.

"You need to go to bed."

"No." Brittany muttered childishly but firmly.

"Britt, c'mon." Santana tugged on her arm, but the blonde just flopped, declining Santana's tug.

"No." She repeated, and Santana narrowed her eyes, dropping her arm and walking around to the front of the sofa.

"You're gonna be the one with the bad back." Santana said matter-of-factly, adding a shrug in for effect. Brittany remained still, pretending she was asleep.

"Fine, fine. If that's the way you want it." The Latina added, walking towards the bedroom and changing into her flannel pyjama pants and black tank top.

After seeing that the blonde hadn't given up her stubborn streak, she walked back to the couch and leant over the back - prodding the blonde.

She didn't know how, or what thought ran through her mind, but before she could notice her actions, she had picked up Brittany and slung her over her shoulder in a fireman's lift.

The dancer shrieked in response, giggling hysterically at the close but comfortable contact they were sharing. She walked into the bedroom, and gently placed the blonde on the mattress, before covering her and walking out towards the spare bedroom.

* * *

><p>Just as she reached the door, she heard a voice.<p>

"San?"

The Latina sighed heavily, turning to meet the stare of expectant blue eyes.

"It's cold. Can you stay here tonight? The heating's broke and I feel like a icicle." Brittany said nervously, chewing on her bottom lip and awaiting to see Santana's reaction.

The brunette stood in the door way, flickering her head between the spare bedroom door down the hall and the large double bed that she knew was so much comfier than the spare mattress. Quinn popped into her mind, reciting the words she'd said only hours ago;

_She's the one who's fighting for you, and the one that misses and loves you Santana._

_If you can't get her out of your head, then maybe she's supposed to be there._

She debated on what to do, her heart and brain once again yelling at each other. Usually she listened to her brain, because it protected her heart - but something snapped inside of her, and her legs followed her heart, carrying her towards the space beside Brittany.

The mattress dipped, and she laid on her back, closer to the edge of the bed than to Brittany before she felt the blonde shiver. Once again, her mind yelled at her not to do what she knew was inevitable, but her heart allowed her too.

She rolled to her side, to face Brittany who was staring at her. She shuffled forward, so there legs were entwined and arms were touching as they were folded in front of their chests. Brittany sighed heavily, letting her sweet breath blanket the Latina's face, and leaving her heart to melt inside of her.

Santana mulled over the decision, before sliding her arm over the still-shaking Brittany, pressing against the small of her back so push their bodies together. Santana hadn't comprehended how close their faces would be as their noses touched, and lips were only centimetres apart.

Despite the low temperature, Brittany stopped shaking as Santana's warm palm started doing circular motions in attempt to keep Brittany from shivering.

"San, I missed you." Brittany whispered, biting on her tongue as the words rolled out of her mouth.

Santana didn't flinch, didn't clutch at her chest or gulp a deep breath, instead she did what felt completely natural, and replied;

"I missed you too Britt Britt."

She watched as the moon highlighted Brittany's brilliantly white teeth as her face pulled into a huge smile that nearly stretched off her face. She nudged forward, nuzzling her nose against Santana's and closed her eyes, content with the Eskimo kiss that the Latina had allowed her to do.

Santana however hated the fact Brittany had this power over her, like she could control her and no matter what the girl put her through; she was always going to be madly in love with her.

So she nuzzled back, watching Brittany's eyes close and lifted her lips, to press a small kiss to the dancer's nose. They lay there, staring at one another until Santana made their noses brush once again and squeezed her eyes shut.

The brunette's eyes snapped open, after embellishing in the feeling of being with Brittany once more. She could see the intent in Brittany's eyes as they gazed at each other, in perfect silence.

Santana inhaled heavily, before feeling the soft brush of Brittany's lips against her own, not really a kiss but close enough.

She shuddered at the contact as Brittany pulled away slowly, and Santana leaned a little lower to make their lips brush once again, but this time she held it there, barely lingering on the dancer's soft lips. Brittany froze, either in fear or confusion at Santana's action - despite making the first move on the Latina.

The brunette backed away the tiniest bit, awaiting Brittany to make the first move. But as she watched the dancers eyes shut, she could feel how scared she was - scared to kiss Santana in case she was rejected.

She could almost feel the memories that burned in the dancers mind, reminding her of how much she hurt her, of how much she wished she could take it back and be in love again.

So the Latina took the lead, leaning forward once more until their lips were overlapping, and they naturally parted, taking Brittany's lower one between her own and moving in the very familiar way.

The dancer understood the Latina's intentions and threaded their fingers together on Santana's free hand, kissing back slowly and perfectly.

Thousands of memories ran through Santana's mind, none were painful, none of them consisted of the hurt Brittany had inflicted on her.

Instead they were of their first kiss, in their fort made out of blankets and pillows that they'd made when they were 15. Embarrassing but at the time it wasn't. Santana felt her heart pound heavily; she was surprised at how right the kiss felt even after the heartache.

Santana smiled into the kiss, realising this kiss wasn't full of lust, or arousal - it was purely for the fact that they loved each other, that they truly were soul mates and could get through everything and anything.

Santana's hand that was pressed against Brittany's back snaked up, resting underneath the blondes t-shirt and grazing against her ribs.

Brittany brought her hand up to cup Santana's cheek, both of them marvelling at the feel of their closed mouths slanting against each other with such ease. A million thoughts and memories proceeded to race through Santana's brain, but right now, all she could focus on was the beautiful blonde attached to her lips. She could feel the warm, fluttery feeling form in the pit of her stomach, and she loved it.

The dancers tongue made the next move, sweeping her tongue along Santana's lower lip, asking for entrance which Santana gladly gave. Their tongues met in the middle, teasing and touching each other before Santana slid her tongue into Brittany's mouth, massaging it gently as a moan escaped the blonde's throat.

They parted for air, but Brittany kept the contact as she bit down gently on Santana's bottom lip, before taking it between her own and sucking gently.

This kiss was completely different from the one in the living room, this one wasn't painful, it wasn't full of conflict and rage, it didn't alight the adrenaline in her veins - it was just passionate, and fuelled by love.

So Santana just embellished in the familiarity of Brittany's taste, even after eight months it still tasted the same, and their body still moulded together like they were meant for each other.

Santana wasn't entirely sure how long the intense, passionate yet romantic kiss went on for. But they parted, gasping for air with swollen lips and matching grins on their face.

"I love you. I'm still totally and completely in love with you. You don't have to love me back, and I would say I'm going to give you my heart, but you already have it. I love you Santana Lopez, always have, and always will." The blonde whispered, closing her eyes and licking her lips, savouring the taste that still remained on them.

Instead of allowing the Latina to respond, she placed a single, sweet, chaste kiss to the brunette's lips and snuggled in to her olive neck.

They both fell asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms. Blissfully unaware of the deep green eyes that shaded with envy and jealousy, staring through the crack in the door.


	14. fourteen

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

The next morning Santana awoke with a slight headache, her arm instantly flopped over to the left side of the bed to find the sheets cold and void of Brittany's warm body. She sat up, scrunching her eyes and rubbing her face with her palms.

Instantly she recognised the headache to be confusion, she'd been thinking so hard that she'd literally forced on a pain to shoot through her head. What did last night mean for her and Brittany? Where they together? Santana's brain couldn't function right, so she decided to get up and investigate the apartment.

As she entered the living room, she was met by a brilliant pair of blue eyes, shining brighter than ever before.

"Morning San!" She said excitedly, her face currently occupied by a grin that Santana wasn't sure was physically possible.

"Morning Britt Britt." Santana replied, blushing slightly at their goodnight kiss.

"You're finally out of bed Santana, good morning." A rough voice spoke; Santana walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge, not even bother to look Dan in the eye.

"Hi." She retorted bluntly, grabbing the carton of orange juice and setting it on the side before reaching for a glass.

As she was pouring, a pair of warm, slender arms slid around her mid-section and it caused a mirror of Brittany's grin to paste across her face. She felt her hair be brushed away over her right shoulder, revealing the skin there and hot breath tickled the nape of her neck as a quiet voice spoke;

"Is this alright?" Brittany whispered, pressing a soft kiss just below her earlobe.

Santana was currently struggling to breathe, so there was no way she could come out with any words that didn't sound like she'd bit her tongue. So instead she nodded furiously, recomposing herself and turning in the blondes embrace.

"But we need to talk about some things, okay?" Santana said, watching the sky-blue eyes light up even more so in excitement.

"Okay." Brittany replied, nuzzling her nose against the Latina's lips and leaning forward.

Their lips were only millimetres apart when Dan coughed erratically, and purposefully. Santana rested her forehead against the dancers wishing the guy really hadn't done that, and turned to watch his skin turn a nasty twinge of green.

"Feeling alright Dan?" Santana asked, kissing Brittany on the cheek before she turned away to join her friend in the living room.

"Peachy." He retorted sarcastically.

Santana rolled her eyes and scoffed at him loudly - a tiny giggle erupting from her lips as she picked up the carton and placed it back in the fridge.

"I heard that." Dan said firmly, his upper lip curling into a small snarl.

"Well I did it loudly." Santana stated, smirking at him.

She took her place on the sofa next to Brittany who slid her hand over and hesitated near Santana's. The Latina saw the uncertainty that tainted her blue eyes, and debated what to do, but once again her heart took over and she threaded their fingers together.

* * *

><p>Dan flicked through the channels, obviously attempting to take his mind off Santana and Brittany - he settled on highlights of a rugby game, probably trying to annoy the brunette with his choice. However it'd been one that she'd missed due to her work shifts, and she hadn't had time to catch it.<p>

"So the Sharks beat the Dragons then? Not surprised, Dragons are shit." Santana giggled, eliciting an adorable scrunching of Brittany's nose and a head nuzzle into the crook of her neck. Dan whipped his head around, shocked by the man at her interest in the sport.

"You like rugby?" He asked sceptically, raising an eyebrow.

"She loves it, we went to go see the Sharks vs. Blanko's for our third date, but we didn't end up seeing a lot of it." Brittany chuckled, remembering their in-promptu heavy make out session that called after an accidental brush of their thighs. Both of the women blushed furiously at the memory, but the Latina shuffled uncomfortably.

"Broncos Britt, not Blanko's." Santana corrected, squeezing Brittany's hand - completely content with her current relationship.

However fear struck her when she realised they still weren't official, and she still didn't have a clue what was going on between the two - yet they were sitting on the sofa, holding hands and reminiscing over one of their first dates like nothing had ever happened.

"Right. Yeah." Dan said bluntly, turning his attention back to the TV.

She didn't know why, but her mind flicked back to the memory of finding Brittany in the bathtub. She flinched, recieving a reassuring squeeze of the hand from the blonde as she watched Santana intently.

The Latina smiled back, but couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of her brain telling her the man Puck had caught was the wrong culprit.

Santana needed to find out more about the alleged criminal that the NYPD had caught, Puck had said the arson attack was intentional. But why would some random guy do it to a woman he didn't even know.

The points just didn't link up. The brunette rose, releasing Brittany's hand, immediately wanting the connection once more and walked behind the couch.

She had to admit, her protective instinct over Brittany was almost too much to contain. She knew that when the blonde was here in her apartment, no-one could touch her.

Her heart slowed down a little at that thought, knowing no-one could harm her if she wasn't in harm's way - well as long as harm's way wasn't sitting in a tight white t-shirt on the armchair sneering at the Latina.

Santana's best friend Quinn popped into her mind, reminding her of the request she'd proposed to her lawyer friend, and hoping she'd already looked up Dan and his background.

Santana reached over the back, placing a little kiss to Brittany's forehead. The dancer craned her neck upwards and questioned the affection and sudden movement of the brunette;

"I've gotta go see Q today. But I'll be back later, we'll talk then yeah? _Alone_."

Brittany's face gleamed once more, and she felt the burn of Dan's envy create a hole in the side of her skin. The brunette squeezed the blonde's shoulder, before heading towards her bedroom to change.

* * *

><p>Only an hour later, Santana wound up at Quinn's office at <em>Lev Migden Law<em> down on Wall Street. The blonde had always been proud of her job, especially considering it was on Wall Street, the financial district of New York city.

The brunette had never seen Quinn happier, apart from the day she confessed her love for Rachel, on the day that she passed her law test with flying colours.

The redhead receptionist at the 37th floor entrance eyed up Santana who was wearing navy skinny jeans and a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a dark grey vest. It wasn't Santana's usual attire, but it was smart and allowed the cool breeze to invade her heated skin.

After the inspection, she lead Santana through several dark grey hallways, passing the stereotypical stuck up, balding or greying colleagues that Quinn had to put up with.

She reached Quinn's office, which was a large space with huge glass windows looking out over NYC skyline, she'd got lucky with the 37th floor area, but she was good at her job - she was supposedly a ruthless bitch when it came to being an attorney, but Santana hadn't ever seen the woman in action.

"Santana!" Quinn exclaimed, surprised by the Latina's presence.

The young receptionist's eyes widened, clearly equally surprised at how nice the ruthless lawyer was being. The blonde attorney sensed this, and stood, straightening out her matching dark pinstriped blazer and skirt;

"Thank you Janice. That will be all." She said firmly, her face completely void of any emotion.

Quinn's glasses perched on the end of her nose as the receptionist closed the door quietly as she exited.

"Jheeze Q, tight ship around here isn't it." Santana scoffed, plopping herself down on the armchair by the attorney's desk and propping up her feet.

"I have a reputation to uphold. You know about status San." She replied, eyeing up several files on her desk before leaning back in her chair, resting her hands folded together on her stomach.

"And what do I owe this visit Miss Lopez?" Quinn asked in her 'business-mode'.

"Calm down workaholic." Santana joked.

"I'm not a workaholic." The blonde hissed as if Santana had called her mom a hoe or something.

She got up, and headed towards a cabinet next to her desk, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid.

"Whoah, chill out - I was just wondering if you'd had any time to find any dirt on Dan." Santana asked honestly, watching Quinn pour out tiny amounts of what she assumed to be whiskey.

"Santana you asked me last night, I've got a lot of work to do and I doubt I'll be able to do it for you until next week at the earliest." Quinn said firmly, gesturing to the stack of paperwork lying on the oak desk.

"Oh right, that's cool. Sorry. But I might get Puckerman to see what he can do." Santana replied, grabbing one of the glasses, swishing the liquid around and tasting it.

"Damn Q, this shit's good." The Latina added, examining the crystal glass that contained the tangy, sweet liquor inside. "What is it?"

"Convalmore 24 year old scotch, top of the range. Only one place that sells it in NYC. But being a power lesbian lawyer and all that cliché crap, I don't mind dishing out $147 per bottle."

Santana had to grab her jaw to return it back to its original place after it smacked the floor with a large thud. Her eyes widened at the amount her best friend spent on liquor.

"Jesus Christ Q! $147! You are aware you could buy 10 cheap whiskeys from the convenience store for that right?" She scoffed, taking another sip and mulling in the warmth that radiated from the pit of her stomach.

They both laughed, but something about the name rang a bell in Santana's head.

"Wait, what did you say it was?" She asked, dropping her feet from the desk and leaning forward towards the attorney.

"Convalmore 24 year old scotch," She repeated, "Why?"

Pucks words echoed through the fire-fighters brain, the scotch that'd been used as a molotov to start the fire in Brittany's apartment was exactly the same. And Quinn had just revealed there was only one place to get it, and not that many people in New York would dish out near $150 for a bottle of scotch, right?

"I need the address of the seller." Santana demanded, watching Q watch her with curiosity as the Latina's mind raced. Apparently he face reflected her current mind set - baffled.

"Um okay. Since when did you become a detective?" Quinn teased, which apparently the Latina didn't find all that funny.

"Look Fabray, are you gonna give me it or not?"

"Jesus Lopez. Yeah, here." She handed the brunette a card with a name on and a novelty whiskey bottle cartoon in the top right hand corner. _Cute_.

"Thanks. Look I gotta go. But I'll see you soon yeah Q?" She said quickly, standing up and heading towards the door.

"I'm glad you're sorting things out with Britt." Quinn muttered, looking down at the files in front of her after pushing her glasses up her nose. Santana paused in the doorway, not knowing how the attorney was aware of it.

"Wha-"

"You can see it on your face. You're happy San. Don't fuck it up." Quinn muttered as Santana shut the door with a smile on her face.

* * *

><p>Santana entered the basement parking lot of her apartment building, inhaling deeply after realising how long it'd been since she'd been behind the wheel. She'd never seen the point in having a car in New York City, but a couple of weeks before Brittany left, she'd convinced the Latina to buy one.<p>

So true to her word, Santana had gone out a few days after being convinced, and bought her dream car, a lime green Jeep Wrangler.

It'd been a childhood dream of Santana's to own that vehicle, but when Brittany left - it was just a reminder of the dream that got away, just like the blonde had.

She fumbled with the keys in her jacket pocket, flinching at the unfamiliar touch of the cool carved metal. She unlocked the car, and felt her heartbeat quicken as she got in the driver's seat, smoothing her palms over the leather coated steering wheel and locking hear seatbelt in firmly.

Luckily, her FDNY unit had bought 4x4 vehicles, so her and her colleagues weren't lumbered with driving around a 4 ton fire engine all the time. The engine revved under her left foot, and hearing it roar was like music to her ears.

She turned out of the parking lot, and into the streets of NYC. She loved the way the lime green shine of the car caught people's attention, and made them stare for a few seconds.

Around ten minutes later, she pulled up outside Park Avenue Liquor on Madison Avenue, pulling up on the curb and exiting the vehicle. As she entered she was greeted by a tall, scrawny, dark haired man dressed in a tuxedo.

_Shit, this place is really posh for a liquor store, _Santana thought, knowing how funny Quinn would probably be finding this.

"Good afternoon ma'am. May I be of any assistance?"

"Ma'am? What am I 50? Yeah I need to talk to um," She grabbed the small business card Quinn had handed her and examined the name, "Jason Jenkins?"

"My apologies Miss..."

"Lopez."

"Well Miss Lopez, if you'd come with my I shall guide you to the Scotch Counter to visit Mr Jenkins."

He said, wavering for Santana to walk behind him as he proceeded down the large hallway of the store. It was bigger than she imagined, each liquor had a different section, and the contrasts in colour was actually quite beautiful.

They passed the vodka and draught beer section before turning a corner to the 'scotch counter' as the stuck up guy had said.

He stood aside, gesturing for the Latina to take a seat in front of a desk flowered with a various brands of whiskey. A middle-aged ginger man came out from behind a closed door by the desk, smiling at the brunette and examining her appearance. Judging by his expression, she obviously wasn't his usual client.

"Well good afternoon Miss Lopez. Would you like a taster of some of our worldwide varieties of scotch whiskey? We only have the finest." Jenkins said, folding his arms behind his back and clasping his hands together.

"No, thank you. I'm here on official, fire-fighters business I guess you could call it. My lawyer friend Quinn Fabray sent me here because of a particular brand of scotch you sell that interests me." Santana said, folding her arms and crossing her leg over.

"Ah Miss Fabray, one of our best clients. I do believe i know what brand you're talking about. Our 1977 rare malt single malt selection, Convalmore 24 year old Scotch?"

Santana nodded, not knowing its full name as she wasn't exactly a connoisseur in the 'rare malt, single malt selection' of fine Scotch whiskeys.

"Well yes actually. I was just wondering if you keep like a receipt or a track record of who's purchased such a fine scotch?" Santana asked, leaning forward so she was leaning her forearms on her thighs.

"Miss Lopez, may I asked what this is concerned with?" Jenkins interrupted, taking two steps towards the chair sitting behind his desk and settling down in it.

"It's a long story really. Half fire-fighter, half detective matter to be honest. My..." The Latina hesitated, trying to find the words to convince the man to hand over confidential information. "Partner, Detective Noah Puckerman asked me to swing by to request the information he sent over earlier by fax."

"I'm afraid we have no such information Miss Lopez. And without him here, I'm sorry but we cannot help you on your endeavours." The ginger man said, trying to smile apologetically but failing as it was clearly forced.

Santana debated on whether to take the drastic step she did next, and whether she'd be caught out on it - but she did it anyway after spotting the unlocked computer sitting idly on Jenkins desk.

"Well can you check with Jones. My partner called up around 8am this morning, apparently she took the call." Santana said firmly, putting on her business face and trying to look as sincere as she can as the lie came out.

The name Jones had just sprung to mind, and she crossed her fingers and hoped to hell that there was an employee called Jones.

"Of course Miss Lopez. If you bear with me for a few moments, I shall be back pronto." He quipped, standing up and heading out the door before disappearing round the corner.

Santana decided it was now or never, and almost jumped over the desk, typing in the name of the scotch whiskey she was searching for.

Apparently there had only been two purchases of the liquor in the past month, one belonging to a unknown male who'd bought 3 bottles, and Quinn, who'd practically bought a fucking case and racking up a bill of over $1000.

She pressed the print button, nervously biting at her nail as a bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. Her jaw clenched in anticipation, she could've sworn she was in a fucking movie right now.

All she needed was the damn thing to print in time for the stuck up asshole to walk back in with her sitting calmly by the desk, as if nothing intense had happened.

Fortunately, it was the cliché she hoped for. The paper printed, and she folded in quickly, shoving it inside her vest - sitting down just in time for Jenkins to walk back in, looking like he just got a rod shoved up his arse and his face completely void of any emotion.

"I apologise Miss Lopez. But Jones hasn't heard anything from a Noah Puckerman." He said, standing by the door and holding it open, obviously trying to get rid of the Latina.

She took the hint, stood up and smoothed down her vest before pulling a smile and shaking the dry hand of the ginger man.

"Thank you anyway Mr Jenkins. Thank you for taking your time out to talk to me." She lied, trying to sound as unsuspicious as possible.

"You too Miss Lopez. It was a pleasure to have met you. Goodbye." He murmured, shutting the brunette out.

Santana walked calmly down the hallways, retracing her previous steps until she arrived at the tall foyer. Just as she stepped in, a young redhead, no older than 19 stepped in front of her and started talking;

"Excuse me Miss. But I heard you were looking for information on the rare malts single malt selection Convalmore 1977, 24 year old scotch whiskey buyers?"

_Fucking mouthful for a little woman,_ Santana thought to herself, not knowing where the woman was going with this.

"Yes?"

"Well being a friend of Miss Fabray you must be important," She punctuated by leaning in and pressing a few folded sheets of paper to Santana's chest and whispering into her ear;

"This is a description of the other buyer. He tried to feel me up one time and I've wanted to know who the perv was for a while. Plus, I'm a huge fan of Miss Fabray's, would you tell her Sammy Jones says hello please?"

The Latina was taken aback by the woman's gesture, wondering why she was so willing to give a random lady details about a guy who'd once tried to feel her up. Surely that was against the company policy?

"Of course. Thank you Miss Jones." Santana added, smiling at the redhead and wondering if the majority of the employees here were gingers.

After a smile and a courteous wave from the guy who'd greeted her, she climbed back in her car and drove down 2nd avenue until she reached the basement parking lot.

She placed her car in her reserved space, and whipped out the several sheets that the young employee had given her, as well as the printed out ones.

The pieces of paper given by the young woman were handwritten; a brief description of the guy was scribbled in rough, not even aligned with the designated spaces given by the paper.

_Short black hair - styled by gel  
>Masculine face shape, strong jaw<br>Green eyes, with tiny grey dots on right eye  
>Muscular build, large arms<br>Around 6ft 3_

Santana's mind immediately shot to Dan - the description basically matched him. But she couldn't take it to Puck; she'd be interrupting a police case without guidance.

After re-reading the piece of paper around four times, and just matching each characteristic with Dan, she folded it and tucked it back inside of her vest.

* * *

><p>She climbed out the car, locked it and headed towards the elevator. After a couple of minutes of mindless humming, the doors opened and she climbed in.<p>

All she really wanted to do was to get into her apartment, have a long, relaxing bath full of bubbles and climb into bed with Brittany.

_Brittany, shit._ Her mind raced with the conversation she knew her and the blonde were going to have to have. Her right foot started tapping the elevator floor as she leaned against the mirrored wall behind her, taking deep breaths in attempt to calm herself.

Santana started muttering to herself to calm down, something bubbled in the pit of her stomach and she realised how nauseous she felt. However, it wasn't feeling sick because of fear, it was excitement.

A huge grin pasted her face and her heart fluttered at the possibility that her and Britt were gonna start their relationship up again.

_She's gonna leave you again._

The Latina's face fell, she literally felt all the blood drain out her face as she remembered the feeling that replaced the current one around eight and a half months ago.

The familiar ache yanked at her heart strings, pulling them tighter around her beating organ. Her lungs, once again started restricting and Santana's breaths grew shorter and faster.

The fire-fighters hand found her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut - it was if she was at work, in a burning building, without her oxygen tank and the smoke was seeping into her lungs, clogging the human pipes and slowly asphyxiating her.

It was that moment of pure weakness that the doors decided to swing open, and Brittany stood behind the door, her head cocked and eyes wide.

"Santana! Wh-what's going on? What's wrong?" She yelped, throwing herself forward and wrapping her slender arms around the Latina's frame, dragging her out the elevator and down the hall to her apartment.

Santana couldn't respond, the breaths were getting shorter and faster, her head started spinning and the only thing she knew was definitely there was Brittany, due to the dancers armed wrapped around her.

"Please Santana, you're worrying me." The blonde said, tilting the Latina's head until coffee eyes met sky blue ones.

Santana smiled, and suddenly the pressure that had built up on her chest disappeared. As she looked into the bright blue eyes that were shaded with fear, her heart smiled and her lungs released themselves, allowing fresh air to invade them.

Brittany watched the corners of Santana's mouth curve up into a grin, and matched it. The Latina instantly recognised the love and happiness behind those eyes, but instead of saying something romantic - Brittany pressed her lips to the Latina's in a soft, quick kiss.

Embarrassingly, Santana's knee's buckled and she fell to the floor - her heart fluttering and stomach spinning.

A giggle escaped the blonde's lips as she bent down to check on the Latina. _God, she still has the same effect on you_ Santana thought to herself as her knees throbbed against the hardwood floor.

"You alright there San?" Brittany whispered, delicately stroking her fingertips down the Latina's right arm from her shoulder - which was currently propping her body up.

Santana blushed, a red shade crept across her olive skinned cheeks and her eyesight diverted to the floor beneath her.

"Yeah, sorry." The brunette muttered, tugging on her lower lip between her teeth.

She cleared her throat as the blonde continued to stare at her with loving eyes, and shifted her weight to rest both her palms on the dancer's knees as she crouched next to her.

Santana pushed herself up, grabbing the blonde's wrists on the way and straightening both of their bodies.

"So." Brittany started.

"So." Santana repeated, lacing their fingers together and marvelling at the skin colour contrast.

She could feel her skin twitch with nerves, her throat ran dry and she inhaled deeply as she knew the conversation that was coming.

As if Brittany sensed it, she unthreaded their fingers and brought a hand up to Santana's face, brushing away a dark lock of hair that hung forward and tucked it behind her ear.

The Latina felt Brittany pull her in closer as her hands slid around her waist. Bistre brown eyes melt cerulean ones in an intense gaze, and Santana couldn't hold back the smile any long as it spread across her face. Brittany leaned in slowly, pressing her soft lips against the brunettes who moaned in response.

Santana watched the brilliantly blue orbs disappear behind pale eyelids before she closed her own, and felt Brittany close in, touching their lips together briefly. And then pulling back for two seconds before closing in and kissing Santana on her partially open lips, filling the gap between her upper and bottom lip.

It was probably more romantic than any other kiss they'd ever had - even more so than the intense one from the other night as they'd laid in Santana's bed. Santana exhaled heavily as Brittany pulled away slowly, opening her eyes to stare at the blonde once more.

She could feel her heart beat erratically, thudding loudly against her ribcage. The brunette felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she blushed, knowing Brittany could probably hear her heart.

The blonde giggled, sensing the embarrassment and slid her hands down Santana's thighs, finding her hands and threading their fingers once more.

The Latina's mind was racing as she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. She knew Brittany loved her; it didn't take a genius to see the amount of love packed behind the beautiful azure eyes.

The brunette just didn't know if she could open up her heart again, let the one person who'd ever truly broke her heart, back in again. Risking those months of intense pain she'd suffered trying to sew the pieces of her shattered organ back together.

"Britt-"

"I know San. I know what I did. I wish I could go back in time and undo it because leaving you was the stupidest thing I've ever done, and that's saying something."

The Latina could hear the pain in Brittany's words, she could see the agony she was enduring in the blue eyes but the wrench in her heart was selfishly overriding all the sympathy. She didn't know if she could handle the blonde leaving again - and she knew it was always going to be a possibility.

She watched as the usually bubbly dancer broke down in tears, and restrain her words. So Santana took the lead and tried to explain her point of view, not willing to meet the beautiful blue eyes.

"Britt, when you left, I didn't know what to do with myself. I tried to live my life. I tried to distract myself by putting everything I had into my job, but when I was forced to come home at night by Matt - I just broke down. Without you I was nothing."

Santana couldn't hold in the tears any longer. They poured out of her eyes, creating a salty waterfall to slide down her cheeks.

Her heart wrenched, she wanted Brittany back so badly, she needed her like she needed air - but something was holding her back. The conflict between her heart and mind was agonising. Brittany smiled sadly, and stepped forward to tip the Latina's face up so they were staring at each other.

"At least you made the effort San. You got up in the morning and actually did something productive with your day. You followed the natural pattern of your life. But, I... I was a complete mess."

Santana tried to interrupt, but the sobs drowned her words and lungs, restraining the words from leaving her mouth. Even if she could've spoken, Brittany's forefinger was pressed to her lips, and the dancer's equally teary face pleaded to carry on.

The Latina nodded at the silent request, squeezing her eyes shut so her eyes no longer saw the excruciatingly painful expression on Brittany's face that wrenched at her heart.

"Within two days I was moved into the small fucking apartment and I more of less, curled up into a ball and allowed the misery to devour me."

The brunette's face fell at the image Brittany was painting on the canvas of her mind. A broken blonde, lying on the floor of her apartment, withering in emotional pain and sobbing heavily as she clutched to her chest - just as Santana had done every night for three months.

"I think I used about 200 ice cubes to try and decrease the eternal puffiness that formed under my eyes. I felt so pathetic. I needed you but I had to let you try and live a normal life, even if it meant I was suffering."

Brittany inhaled deeply, pulling the Latina close to her as she whimpered at her words.

"Santana, I can't promise you a lot of things. But I can promise you I'm willing to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. I'll earn your trust back somehow, even if it's the last thing I do. I'm not strong enough to leave you again, I barely had the strength to do it the first time, but it's like no matter how much distance is between us, you still have a hold of my heart. Your grasp on me is permanent and unbreakable Santana, and it always has been - even when I left."

A quick silence invaded their intense conversation. Santana couldn't bare the few seconds of quiet sobbing; as if her heart took over her mouth and forced out words.

"Britt, without you I felt like my heart had gone, like my chest was hollow - like everything I'd ever had inside of me was taken when you left."

Santana felt an unfamiliar twinge in her chest, and she soon recognised it to be the unlocking of the safe built around her heart. She was opening herself up to the one person who'd ever been able to truly affect her. Brittany reached her hand up to cup her cheek, stroking away the tears with her thumb pad, speaking before the Latina could finish.

"I need you San, more than anyone else on this entire planet could ever need anyone. I need you to take care of me, to protect me, and most of all I need you to love me, because I'm still madly in love with you."

For the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine, happy smile found the Latina's face and pasted it there. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Brittany's soft ones. They moulded together perfectly, melting against each other with every ounce of love they possessed poured into the kiss.

Santana could taste the future in this touch, she could taste the new promises and repaired hearts as their lips joined together at the brand new start of their fated relationship.

They parted, and Brittany tightened her grip on the Latina, untangling her hands from the dark brown locks and pressing them against her back so their bodies pressed flush against each other. Santana's arms snaked around the blonde's neck, pulling their foreheads together as she allowed her heart to take full reign of her words;

"You're wrong. I need you more than you need me, and I'm alright with that because I love you Britt, I'm still totally and completely in love with you. And most of all, I forgive you. I forgive you for leaving because if it wasn't for that, we wouldn't have learned how that we can't live without each other, and the extent of our feelings. We've been together since we were 17 officially, but really, we've been together most of our lives. Even through the years when we weren't physically together. And it gave us the time to discover something we'd never have known."

The tears trailed a salty track down Brittany's cheek. The Latina gasped as she felt a weight be lifted off her shoulders, her breathing organs opened and a breath of fresh air rushed into the newly opened areas.

Despite everything, the fire, the heat, the broken heart, the lack of oxygen - Santana felt as if she could breathe easier, like her lungs had re-opened a part of her she'd lost eight months ago when the blonde, who was now standing in front of her laying her heart down on the line, had snapped her in two.

But she didn't care anymore, the intense moment they were sharing made the past just disappear.

"Brittany Pierce, I fell in love with you when I first laid eyes on you, obviously being four years old I didn't recognise it, but looking back it was. And I guess I've never really appreciated it. But I do love you, always have and I always will."

Santana cupped the blonde's cheek, before tilting her head forward and pressing their lips together into a slow, lingering kiss. She couldn't help but smile into the kiss, knowing this was the rebirth of a relationship with the best thing that'd ever happened to her. Brittany Susan Pierce.


	15. fifteen

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

Santana breathed, just revelling in the feeling of Brittany lying against her, back to chest. They were on the lounger on the patio of the balcony, limbs tangled and fingers laced together.

_Pure bliss _she thought, squeezing the blonde a little tighter.

"Did I tell you I love you?"

Santana whispered into the blondes ear, pulling her as close as humanly possible. Brittany turned in her embrace, so her chest was pressed against Santana's stomach, her head resting on the Latina's chest.

"You may have mentioned it once or twice." She teased, craning her neck to press a gentle kiss to the Latina's lips.

The blonde turned around once more, settling back into the brunettes embrace. The sun was rising over the New York city skyline, the large flowing sphere known as the sun rose slowly into the dull morning sky.

A slight chill still hovered in the air, causing goose bumps to form over the pale and olive skin of the two lovers.

"San, look at how beautiful the sunrise is." Brittany muttered, snuggling closer to the Latina for extra warmth.

The colours made by the rising sun changed, growing more vivid with the passing time. Making the sky more radiant as it climbed higher and higher into the sky.

But as beautiful as the morning was, Santana missed all of it; she couldn't take her eyes off the blonde lying in her embrace. Brittany turned her head, awaiting a comment from the Latina when all she met was the beautiful brown orbs.

"San you missed it." She said, jutting out her bottom lip in disappointment.

"Sorry, I was looking at something even more beautiful." She commented, kissing the blonde's temple.

Santana would've usually cringed at how cheesy she sounded, but in that moment there was nothing but the beating hearts of two soul mates - and she couldn't have been happier as she stared into at the brilliantly blue, smiling eyes of the girl she was madly in love with.

"Cheese ball." Brittany grinned, craning her neck and kissing her at the awkward angle they were in.

"Shut up you." Santana responded, scrunching her nose up adorably.

But of course, there blissful moment had to be interrupted by the buzzing of Santana's phone. She rolled her eyes and reached into her pocket, flipping it open, but still making sure her one of her hands was attached to Brittany's.

The blondes eyebrows furrowed with curiosity, but the Latina smiled at her once revealing the screen that read 'Puckerman', and the dancer turned back to look at the sunrise.

"Noah." She said solemnly, remembering the last conversation they had which ended with a pissed off Latina.

"Santana, look. I'm sorry about the other day. But I," He hesitated, Santana waited expectantly whilst raising her and Britt's hand and examining them in the beams of sunlight, "I was thinking about what you said when I was finishing up the paperwork on our suspect, and something just doesn't pan out."

"Being?"

"The guy we caught doesn't fit with any of the evidence we've got. I mean it was a clean hit so there wouldn't be much anyway, and he doesn't have an alibi - but something just doesn't feel right."

Santana smiled, knowing how hard this conversation would be for the proud Puckerman. Someone who thought he was never wrong and rarely apologised for anything, let alone doubting himself.

"Right..."

"But we have no reason to suspect your man, so unless we find some evidence - we can't even bring him in for questioning. And that's where you come in."

The Latina leant forward, pushing Brittany with the movement and gesturing to get up. The blonde questioned her action, but Santana just held up one finger and winked, causing a very aroused looking expression to form on the dancer's face, before winking back.

Santana literally had to cling onto the sliding glass door to steady her buckling knees, before mentally restraining herself from jumping on the beautiful blonde and sliding inside the apartment.

"Okay, so what do you need me to do?" Santana asked, feeling slightly big-headed at being asked to help with the NYPD and trying to push past the intense throbbing that'd formed inbetween her legs from the wink

"We need something, anything that can give us reason to bring this guy in - but it has to be subtle. So it's not like you can ask him straight up, 'cause if this is the guy, he's gonna be trained and dangerous Lopez."

Santana pondered on the thought, wondering how she could get evidence on a gut feeling. Sure being suspicious was one thing, but actually acting on the suspicion without asking out right was gonna be tricky.

But her mind instantly faltered as she witnessed Brittany standing up and stretching. A slither of skin was visible under her tank top, revealing her toned stomach, sending arousal straight through the Latina's body. It was only when Puck coughed down the end of the phone did she realise her own ogling.

"Uh, sure Puck. I'll come up with something."

"Thanks San... Are you alright, you seem, distracted?" He said wearily.

"Yeah sorry. Britt's here." She responded amusingly.

"Oh shit, I didn't um... Interrupt anything did I?"

Santana's eyebrows furrowed, wondering what he meant - then it clicked.

"Oh, no. No, no. We're just-, I think we're-, Things are getting better between us." The brunette stammered, not actually knowing what was going on between the two.

"Wahey!" Puck cheered, "She is one hot piece of-"

"Shut up Puckerman." Santana interrupted, knowing exactly how hot Brittany was. "I'll see what I can do in regards to your request." She continued, trying to ignore classic 'Puck'.

All the received in response was a snort and a rough, throaty laugh.

"Bye Noah."

"Say hello to Br-"

Santana hung up, chuckling and shaking her head.

* * *

><p>Brittany walked in, sliding the door shut behind her and harbouring the blanket they'd had outside.<p>

"What did Puck want?" She asked, crooking her head to the side curiously.

The Latina hesitated, realising she'd completely forgotten to tell Britt that they'd caught someone in reference to her arson attack.

But guilt washed over her as she remembered deciding not to tell the dancer about someone deliberately attacking her apartment, and probably attempting to kill her.

The blonde sensed the hesitation and moved forward, resting her palms on Santana's hips and dipping her head lower.

"San?"

"There's something I need to tell you Britt, and I didn't tell you before because I didn't want to worry you." Santana started, looking down at the floor and playing with her fingers inbetween their bodies.

"Okaaaay..." Brittany said, her eyes glazed with worry as it matched her expression.

The Latina cleared her throat, hoping the blonde dancer wouldn't hate her for withholding the information.

"Well, um..."

"San you're starting to worry me, what's going on?" Brittany interrupted, stepping closer to the Latina who ran her hands up and down the toned, pale arms of the dancer.

"The fire at your apartment wasn't an accident. The police suspect that someone threw a molotov cocktail through your living room window." Brittany's eyes scrunched in confusion at the name of the weapon, so Santana decided to explain it;

"A molotov cocktail is a type of fire bomb, usually made from of a glass bottle containing a flammable substance, like liquor or something. It has a cloth wick held in place by the bottle's stopper, and it's usually soaked in the substance. When the wicks lit, the bottle gets thrown at a specific target and when the bottle smashed, the liquid is ignited causing an immediate fireball followed by a fast spreading fire."

"I already knew it was done on purpose San, come on give me some credit." Brittany responded, smiling innocently. But her face showed that she was surprised by the amount of knowledge the brunette had on the weapon.

"But how do you know so much about it pyro?" She teased, nudging Santana on the nose with her forefinger.

"When I found out, I may have googled it." Santana admitted, blushing.

"Right, so you were saying?"

Santana nodded before continuing; "Yeah, well they caught someone and arrested him on suspicion."

Brittany jumped and hugged the Latina in excitement. When Santana didn't respond, the blonde pulled back.

"Wait, isn't that a good thing?"

"I don't think they've got the right guy." Santana stated, biting on her bottom lip, _shall I tell her I think it's Dan? Or will that spark an argument? Shit what shall I do?_ Santana debated to herself, racking her brain for answers.

"What? Why?" Brittany asked, stepping back to look at the Latina properly whilst sliding her hands down her arms and lacing their fingers together.

"I just think it's..." Santana once again hesitated, flickering her gaze down to their intertwined fingers. "...Someone else."

"Santana you're probably just being paranoid." Brittany reasoned, pressing a kiss to Santana's head. "What does that have to do with Puck though?"

"He agrees with me." Santana said bluntly, not appreciating Brittany's doubt.

It was noticed by the blonde who took a step forward again and wrapped her arms around the Latina's neck.

"San don't be like that, you know what I mean. You're just very protective of me so you're bound to be paranoid."

Santana smiled, giving in and returning the hug as she palmed the small of Brittany's pack, creating imaginary circles. The dancer was the first to pull away, placing a quick, sweet kiss on the brunette's lips before turning away and heading towards the kitchen.

An itch formed in the back of the fire-fighters neck, begging her to ask Brittany about the difference between her story of meeting Dan and Dan's. She argued with herself, twiddling her thumbs and tugging on her bottom lip nervously.

"Britt?"

"Yeah baby?"

A tingle ran down the Latina's spine at the nickname, but she shook her head in attempt to remove the sensation.

"Uh, I love you." Santana said quickly, replacing her original words. _Talk to him about it, he's the one lying._

"I love you too Sanny." She replied, scrunching her nose over the kitchen counter as the Latina took a seat on the sofa.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Brittany had to go to work at the community centre teaching kids to dance, one she'd volunteered to do considering she loved dancing and kids - plus it looked great on her résumé.<p>

But unfortunately it left Santana alone, and missing her.

So instead of sitting there feeling lonely as she waited for the dancer - she invited Quinn over for a bit, seeing as she hadn't really spent alone time with her in a while without the dwarf interrupting.

"Hey San." The blonde said as Santana opened the door.

"Hey Q."

"What's with the sudden invite?" Quinn asked she let herself in and sitting down on the sofa. Santana proceeded to the kitchen and started to make two cups of coffee.

"Do I need a reason to invite my best friend over?" Santana challenged, before Q raised her eyebrow sceptically.

"I just feel like I barely get to see you anymore." The Latina reasoned, placing one mug down beside the blonde and sitting down cupping her own.

Quinn smiled at the brunette, "Aw, who knew Santana Lopez had feelings, ey?"

"Why does everyone say that to me?" Santana responded, lifting her free hand up and slapping it against the fabric of the sofa incredulously. She remembered the same words coming from Puck.

"Well, ever since Brittany's come back into your life, you've softened up a bit." Quinn stated, sipping at the cup of coffee.

"Uh, oh. Fair enough." Santana responded, slightly shocked at the statement. _Do people notice the effect Brittany has on me?_

"So, how are you two anyway?"

Santana couldn't restrain the grin that pasted her face, she looked down as she blushed - knowing Quinn was reading her like a book.

"Ohhh, so good I'm guessing then?" The blonde said, winking as the brunette glanced up at her. Santana inhaled heavily, unable to hold back the her happiness.

"Uh huh. Well we sorted things out last night, and I think we're just gonna take things slowly."

"Yeah, after I sleep with someone I usually like to slow things down." Quinn said sarcastically, smiling at her own comment.

"Shut up Fabray. We're just taking it as it comes."

The blonde reached across the sofa, engulfing the Latina in a small hug. "It's so good to see you happy San, it's been a while."

Santana sniggered, pulling back and grabbing her coffee mug, taking a long sip from it.

"So did you ever find anything out about Dan from the liquor store?"

"Well, kind of. I went there and saw that guy, Jenkins or something? And he refused to give me any information on the buyers, but I got it in the end." Santana said, placing her mug down and resting her head on her palm, elbow on the back of the sofa.

"Oh God, what did you do?" Quinn asked, rolling her head to the side.

"Nothing really, just hacked into the guy's computer and got the information myself."

"I swear Lopez if I get refused to purchase from there anymore I'm gonna kick your ass." The blonde said firmly, her eyebrows rising angrily.

"It's cool Q, he didn't even notice. But there was a really helpful woman there - Sammy Jones? She gave me a description of the other buyer, considering there was only two of them - one being you obviously."

Quinn nodded in agreement, taking another gulp of her coffee. "Yeah Sammy's nice, she only just started working there recently actually. So did the description match Dan or what?"

"It matched perfectly, but a 19 year olds description of a man isn't exactly hard evidence Q."

"Ditched the fire-fighting role for a detective one did we?" Q teased, she received a light punch in the ribs for the comment but Santana laughed afterwards.

"Nah, I just know there's more than what meets the eye. Gut instincts."

"Well it's not like they've ever led you astray, so just go with it."

Santana nodded and they carried on talking for a few hours. After an hour or two, silence greeted their conversation.

They both sipped on their drinks before the door opening breaking the awkwardness. A masculine figure stepped inside the door, clutching a brown paper bag.

* * *

><p>"Dan." The Latina nodded, looking at the dark haired man.<p>

"Santana." He replied, before a bounding Brittany followed behind.

"Quinn!" She exclaimed, running over to the sofa and almost knocking the other blonde back with the force of her embrace.

"Whoah, hey Britt. Nice to see you." Quinn replied, pulling away from the dancers grasp.

"Afternoon stranger." Brittany said to Santana, leaning over and pressing her hands against the top of the Latina's thighs and inching their faces closer together.

The blonde captured the brunette's lips and Santana's body immediately leant in, attempting to deepen the kiss, but Brittany pulled away. Probably best considering the company.

"Hey baby." Santana responded, still pouting from the kiss and blushing when she realised her facial expression.

Dan made his way through the apartment with a scowl on his face, which didn't go unnoticed by Quinn who got up and introduced herself.

Santana was too caught up with Brittany telling her about her day to hear what Quinn and Dan were talking about, until the blonde said one thing;

"Oh, a man of fine choice I see. Convalmore 1977, 24 year old scotch right? That's pretty rare."

Santana's head snapped up to eye the bottle standing idly on the counter. Her heart pounded furiously as she met the glare of Dan's eyes.

She'd found her evidence.

A hand formed around the bottle and Dan picked it up, nodding proudly.

"Yeah. Love this stuff. Really _burns_ in your throat." He said evilly, not realising that Santana was watching his every move and listening to his every word.

"Uh, yeah. Tastes great." Quinn said uncomfortably, shuffling under Dan's creepy stare.

"Yes Dan, that's a pretty rare liquor though, and expensive. Wouldn't wanna put any of it to waste." Santana added, causing the evil stare to flicker to her.

"Nope. Better to use every last drop. This stuff is dangerously tasty."

Santana narrowed her eyes, before Brittany stood up and coughed loudly, breaking their eye contact.

"So guys, what do you wanna do?"

Dan turned away, walking towards the spare bedroom and shutting the door behind him - still grasping the bottle. The Latina's mind finally kicked in after staring after him as he disappeared, bringing her back to reality.

"Actually Britt, I've gotta go see Puck. Last minute thing, you know?"

Brittany nodded, walking towards her as she grabbed her coat.

"Sure, what time will you be back?" The blonde asked as she laced their fingers together.

"Not entirely sure yet, I won't be too long though." Santana said honestly, pressing a kiss to Brittany's forehead and leaning over her shoulder to meet hazel eyes.

"Q, are you staying with Britt for a couple of hours, yeah?" The Latina asked, pleading silently that she wouldn't leave Brittany alone with Dan. Quinn caught on, reading the brunettes expression and nodding.

"So you won't be on your own, have fun girls. Don't do anything I wouldn't." Santana said, before releasing their laced fingers and opening the door.

"Love you San." Brittany added, causing Santana to turn around and take a step towards her.

"Love you too." Santana finished, kissing the dancer lightly on the lips and closing the door behind her.

* * *

><p>Entering the police station felt strange, not because she'd only been there a couple of times - but because she felt like a detective walking to her office.<p>

Well, until she opened the door to find Puck sitting there nodding his head to the beat of the song on the radio as he flipped through some files.

"Puckerman. I got some evidence."

The detectives head snapped up as he threw the file onto the desk and leant forward.

"Shoot."

"You said the glass shards you found in Britt's apartment was Convalmore 24 year old scotch whiskey right?"

Puck nodded in confirmation and a smirk pasted the Latina's face.

"Guess who drinks it."

"Quinn?" Puck said wide-eyed, probably hoping Santana wasn't about to screw over her best friend.

"Nope, Dan and look," She punctuated her sentence by thrusting forward the folded piece of paper with the description of the second buyer of the rare whiskey, "He matches the exact description given by an employee that served him."

"Wait, how do you know this?"

Santana widened her eyes, realising she'd have to tell Puck about her illegal detective work.

"I uh, went to Park Avenue Liquor on Madison Avenue - it's the only place that sells this scotch and well, asked for a list of buyers." Santana said, darting her eyes at everything around the room making sure she didn't meet Puck's glare.

"You did this behind my back?"

"Puck look, I needed to alright. Just spare me the lecture for now."

"Actually, I was about to congratulate you. You should join the force, you'd be a great detective. Better than me.

_Not hard considering you're a shit one _Santana thought, biting down on her words as they were about to roll off her tongue.

"Uh, thanks. Anyway, I went there and searched for the buyers, but they wouldn't hand them over. And then as I was about to walk out a young employee came over and gave me this information. It matches him Puck; it's exactly what he looks like. Now you can't just tell me that's a coincidence." Santana commented, sitting down on the chair and shuffling it forward to get closer to the desk and pieces of paper Puck was examining.

"Okay, you may have a point. But considering what you did was getting in the way of official police business, I can't condone this information to the Captain and ask to have your guy brought in."

Santana sighed heavily, realising her actions weren't as effective as she'd hoped them to be.

"But that doesn't mean we can't go rogue on this shit." Puck smirked, picking his badge up from where it was clipped on his belt and throwing it inside a drawer.

"Fuck yes." The Latina replied, high-fiving the detective. "So what now?"

Puck turned on his computer screen, awaiting it to load as he drummed on the desktop.

"We wait for this piece of shit to load and search his name. You know it right?"

"Yeah. Daniel Lewis, apparently he grew up in Brooklyn and was a victim of an arson attack himself, or burglary. He fucked up his lying by telling me and Britt different stories."

"Jesus Lopez, you've done some heavy detective work. Saves me the time, nice one." Puck said, clicking a few times on the mouse before typing Dan's name into the keyboard.

Santana smiled at the comment, blushing slightly but making sure the detective didn't see it. As she looked up she realised Puck's face was filled with disappointment, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes were narrowed. The Latina leaned forward, stretching across the desk as he turned the screen to reveal bold letters on it

_No results for 'Daniel Lewis' found._

The brunette's stomach dropped as she read it. There was no traces of him anywhere on the database - maybe he was clean. Maybe she was just paranoid and reading way to much into things. Maybe it **was **just a coincidence.

"Shit."

"You can say that again Lopez. Are you sure that's his name?"

"That's what he said."

"Are you sure?" Puck pressed on, continuing to drum his fingers on the countertop. Santana was perched on the side, rubbing her fists against her eyes in defeat.

"Course I'm fucking sure Puckerman." The Latina hissed, glaring at the detective who leaned back a bit at her outburst.

"Jheeze alright. Look I'm sorry Lopez but he's not your guy. Just face it man, I know you don't like him and everything but I think you're just being paranoid."

Santana tapped her forefinger to her chin, thinking of another name - however another thought popped into her head, widening her eyes. Completely ignoring Puck, she starting speaking;

"What about that guy, Sandy? You know the one who..."

Puck clenched his jaw and the Latina shut her mouth immediately, almost regretting the words.

"Saunders." He deadpanned.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"Doesn't match the description - plus we've been tracking him for a while. Last we heard he was in Cincinnati."

Santana exhaled heavily, "But-"

"No buts, Santana. He was a blonde, scrawny little fuck almost grey eyes. It's not him. Trust. He's not the one after your little girlfriend so calm the fuck down."

She flinched at the comment, hearing a hint of bitterness in his tone. She leant across the desk, grasping Puck's collars and pulling him towards her, their faces only inches apart.

"Look Puckerman, don't tell me to calm the fuck down. You of all people should know how I'm feeling so back the fuck off." Santana spat, clenching her fists tighter so her skin over her knuckles were an unhealthy shade of white.

"I need you to look for this guy. I need you to do something to nail this asshole. I swear, he tried to fucking kill Brittany - and if I wouldn't be sent down for it and I knew where he was, he wouldn't have a dick or a pulse right now."

"Shit Lopez, he's really got a hold on you hasn't he?" Puck replied, grabbing her wrists and releasing her grip. "Look, calm down. I'm gonna do whatever I can to nail him okay? But right now I need you to look after you and Britt - because if he is the guy, he's one crazy mother fucker."

Santana's heart sank at the thought of Dan hurting Brittany - her fists balled up, nails painfully digging into her palm.

"I swear if he fucking touches her..."

"What, you're gonna go all 'Lima Heights'?" Puck said mockingly, repeating her words that she'd said once on a bar crawl. Santana scowled at him, and went to make a smart ass comment before he interrupted her;

"Look, considering you're acting like a detective and basically are one, you should have at least know how to use some of the equipment." Puck stood up, gesturing to the 9mm he had attached to his hip.

"What?"

"Just come with me Lopez." He said, walking out the door and down a few greyed corridors. Santana couldn't help but feel her body shrink in defeat, she wanted it to be Dan so badly - almost as an excuse to get him out of her and Brittany's life. But she was wrong.

* * *

><p>The whole place was pretty bland, there were barely any windows, the rooms were relatively air-conditioned due to the lack of windows, and they were all painted in either black, grey or white paint.<p>

After turning a few more corners, they arrived at a large black door with 'Shooting Range' written on the door.

They entered a small room to the right as soon as they entered the range, and Puck handed her a pair of transparent safety glasses and a bright orange pair of earmuffs. She slid them on, not need instruction and followed the detective into a large, concreted and very cold area.

The room had a back wall with a sloped earthen bank, with reinforced baffles additionally situated along the roof and side walls. There were several air vents, and no windows for obvious reasons.

Santana questioned them but Puck said something about 'pulling smoke and lead particles away to reduce potential lead poisoning.'

Several bright yellow signs with 'WEAR THE CORRECT PROTECTIVE GEAR' with little cartoons of a head wearing ear protection and safety glasses, were darted around various areas of the range - since apparently 'indoor ranges can produce noise levels of over 140 dB sound pressure level' as Puck had said.

Not that Santana was interested at all considering she was excited about firing her first gun.

"Now, you hold it like this." Puck said, bringing out his gun and grasping it appropriately. Santana shook her head and laughed;

"I know how to hold a gun Noah; I'm not as innocent as you think." She said, remembering the time her brother had taught her to fire his BB gun during one summer before he joined the left to join the army.

The memory saddened her, but she also remembered the extra comforting Brittany had given her after he left, _that was a good summer._

"Alright then, show me what you got Lopez."

Around two hours and 7 rounds later, Santana exhaled heavily and slammed the gun down on the counter. She and Puck had just had a shoot-off, who was the better aim seeing as Santana was obviously skilled in the firing area.

Puck mimicked the Latina's movement, placing the gun down and pressing the green button on the wall - moving the roller so the targets were brought towards them. Santana smirked as she examined hers and then Puck's, noticing she'd hit the middle scoring ring seven times, whilst Puck had only hit it twice.

"Now that. Is how. It's done." She cheered, waving her fist in the air.

"Alright, alright."

"Not my fault you've got shit aim." Santana chuckled, lighting jabbing him in the arm."

"Fuck off Lopez." He joked, returning the jab and then widening his eyes when he saw the time. "Shit, dude we need to go. Shift in twenty minutes."

"Aw, you don't have to make excuses just 'cause you're losing to a girl." Santana teased, winking at him.

"You're not a girl, you're a dude."

Santana scoffed, before grabbing her boobs and thrusting her chest forward towards him.

"These, say different."

Puck laughed throatily, throwing his head back after removing his stare from the set of luscious twins on the Latina's chest.

"Nah, you're like a dude. Mentally you are."

Santana scowled at him, which just earnt another chuckle. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm a guy."

"I know. Don't get me wrong I know physically you're a chick - but you know what I mean." Puck said, trying not to sound like a sexist, homophobic pig.

"Of course I do." Santana muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the detective.

"Come on. We need to go." He said, replacing his gun back in his holster and grabbing the one Santana used, returning it to the armoury behind him.

They both walked out into the dull, grey hallways and out the back entrance into the parking lot. A chill ran over the Latina's skin, causing goose bumps to form.

"Ah shit, I forgot my coat. Be two seconds?" She called; Puck turned and gave her a nod before entering the undercover cop car, a black Audi A4.

Santana ran back into the building, trying to navigate her way back to Puck's office and struggling considering all the halls looked the same. After taking a couple of wrong turns she found a room labelled 'Detective Noah Puckerman' and entered it.

Her black leather jacket lay loosely over the back of her chair, and she picked it up carefully, making sure nothing fell out the pocket. As she shrugged it on, her eye caught a photo on the desk, just edging out of a file Puck had been looking at earlier. She leant over, grabbing the folder and read the label at the top;

**'Case 254: Lily Puckerman'**

Her heart sank as she remembered the devastating tale of Puck losing his wife. She loved him, she really did and she hated seeing him so lost.

Even though he put a smile on his face, and acted like shit didn't phase him - Santana could see the pain behind his eyes. In a lot of ways, they were very alike, and she'd always thought that's why they'd become such good friends.

Puck was protective, and very aware of his relationships with everyone. He never got serious with any women, because he was scared of being hurt - and the Latina knew the feeling only too well.

They'd both fallen on hard times, very hard times, but Santana couldn't help but feel sorry for him because she got her happy ending - she got her girl back and Puck never could.

She traced her finger over the corners of the pale yellow file, flicking it open and scanning over some of the words that stood out;

_'...death by arson...'_  
><em>'...found dead on scene...'<em>  
><em>'...suspect Lewis Saunders fled from the scene...'<em>

Santana clenched her eyes shut, restraining the tears as she could only imagine reading through a file with Brittany's name on it. The sobs took over her and her fingers unconsciously released their grip on the folder.

"Shit." She whispered, as she bent down to Pick up the several pieces of paper scattered along the floor.

Her vision spotted the photo that'd previously caught her eye, and she leant forward slightly, fingering the shiny image of a man.

The Latina's heart dropped at the sight, dull grey eyes stared at her, a glint of evil sparkled in the eyes of the man in the photo.

She traced her fingertip over the strong jaw that framed the males face, then onto the prominent cheekbones. The corners of the man's face were turned up into a sly smirk, and her upper lip immediately curled into a snarl.

"Yo Lopez, what's taking you so long?" Puck called, swinging into the room.

Santana didn't even flinch at the sudden voice, she didn't move as he pressed his hand against her shoulder, tugging back to shake her out of her frozen state.

Santana didn't even hear the words that came out of Puck's mouth as his eyebrows furrowed into a worried expression. The only thing the Latina could see was the familiar face staring up at her from the photo in her hands.

She didn't even feel when the detective yanked her to her feet, or her heart quicken its pace rapidly. The brunette just stood completely motionless, her pale face void of any expression.

"Santana! What is it? Why are you looking at this photo?" Puck almost yelled.

Santana's eyes slowly moved into the eye line of the detective, meeting his gaze. But she wasn't really looking at him, she wasn't really thinking of anything else apart from the devious smirk pasted on the males face on the image.

The Latina swallowed heavily, dampening her deathly-dry throat and said the only few words she could summon.

"This," Santana stuttered, attempting to force out the words, "This is Dan."


	16. sixteen

**Harder To Breathe:  
>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

"What?" Puck said, grabbing the Latina's pale skin that covered her jaw and tilting it up to face him.

Santana could feel the fear roll off his body; she could see the worry in his eyes at her motionless state. But her mind snapped, allowing her body to finally kick in.

"Brittany." She breathed, her brain racing with images of the perfect blonde at home with the psycho that tried to kill her.

Puck stood inches in front of her, grasping keys in his right hand whilst holding the Latina with his left. Her stare darted down to the shiny objects clinking in his hand, and snatched them - feeling the cold metal dig into her palm.

Her legs flickered into action, sprinting out the door and into the parking lot - she reached the Audi and threw herself in, shoving the keys into the ignition and revving the engine loudly.

The acceleration on the car just didn't seem quick enough as she swung the back of the car around, the tyres screeching heavily on the tarmac and scarring them with large, black rubber burns.

As the car flew out the exit, she looked back in the rear view mirror to see Puck sprinting out and waving his hands frantically at the Latina. But she didn't stop, she barely even noticed him.

Her heart pounded furiously against her ribcage, she could taste the fear bubbling in her mouth at the thought of Dan or Lewis or whatever his name was, getting his hands on her. She didn't even bother stopping for most of the traffic lights as the vehicle flew through the streets of New York City.

Several faces turned, but she couldn't even acknowledge them because as quickly as she saw them, she'd disappeared. Her hands clenched the leather steering wheel tightly, adrenaline pumped through her veins, causing her heart to throb louder and louder - pounding in her ears.

Santana ignored the pain that shot through her knuckles as they pushed against her olive skin at the vice grip she had on the wheel.

Her apartment building stood largely in front of her, and the tyres screeched as she yanked on the handbrake, swinging the car round in an awesome parking manoeuvre that she'd never be able to pull off in any other situation. And _damn,_ she wish that'd been caught on camera.

She didn't even bother taking the keys out the ignition as she threw herself out the car, sprinting up the stairs after deciding the elevator would take too long.

She could feel her face fill with blood, fear coursed through every inch of her body as she approached her apartment door, which was open just the slightest bit.

It was in this moment she wished she'd grabbed Puck's gun at the station as well as the damn car keys, but she couldn't turn back now.

She hadn't even explained to the detective where she was going or what'd happened to her - and she'd probably feel guilty if it wasn't for the horror overcrowding her emotions.

It was if her body was numb as she shuffled quietly towards the open door, she could feel where the chill of air was supposed to prick her skin as she pushed open the large piece of wood blocking her entrance - but the sensation never came.

Santana's throat was still deathly dry as her eyes darted around the empty apartment; only the muffled sound of the TV rang throughout the rooms as well as the dull light that lamely illuminated the living room.

"Britt?" Santana called roughly, her voice breaking due to lack of moisture in her throat.

Nothing but silence responded to her. Fear gripped her chest as she walked through the hallway, glancing in each of the rooms as she walked along.

_Empty. Empty. Empty._

She thought to herself, as she approached the last door - their bedroom. Her fingers crossed in anticipation, hoping as she opened the door the blonde would be splayed on the bed.

But after a few seconds, her hand reached out and turned the knob, opening the door and confirming her worst fears. Brittany was gone.

The Latina's knees buckled under the pressure, Brittany and Dan were both gone. He'd got her, he was under the brunette's nose the whole time and still, he'd managed to grab her one reason for living. Her jacket pocket felt heavy, her mobile weighed it down as she fumbled around to grab it.

"Answer Britt. Please. Answer." She mumbled as the phone rang out.

She felt pathetic as she hung up, her head pounding with the previous rush of adrenaline. Somewhere, Brittany was out there, and Santana didn't know where.

Her fingers immediately dialled the familiar number four more times before her chest gave up on her, the wires latching around the dents they'd made when previously strangling her lungs.

Her breath grew shorter and faster, her oxygen intake was shrinking fast. Her head swam with paranoia and fear, she clenched her eyes shut - wishing she'd wake up if this was just a dream. But it wasn't.

She sobbed heavily, her palms connecting with her face and trying to force the tears back in. She failed, well until a blonde popped into her head and not the one she thought would.

Somehow, Santana summoned the strength to stand up again and exited the apartment, slamming the door behind her loudly.

The Latina got in the car, ignoring several dirty glances from random New Yorkers as she headed for the person's house who was the last one to see her, Quinn.

* * *

><p>"Quinn! Open up!" Santana yelled, hammering on the door with her fist.<p>

She'd been standing there for about twenty seconds, and grew increasingly impatient and scared as her best friend wasn't answering the door.

_Had he got her too?_

The door swung open, revealing a very tired looking diva who was squinting against the light that beamed into the dark apartment.

"Santana? What are you going here?"

The Latina completely ignored the smaller girl, pushing past her and into the apartment, scanning.

"And where's Quinn?"

Santana's heart stopped, she turned and stared at the diva wide-eyed. Rachel furrowed her brows at the Latina, before copying her expression, noticing the red rims that surrounded the feared/infuriated dark eyes that stared at her.

"Santana, what's wrong?"

"She isn't here?" The taller brunette asked, once again completely blanking the smaller girl.

"No, she was with you... She sent me a text saying she was staying over?"

The Latina's knees once again buckled under the pressure, and she slumped against the floor helplessly. In the space of two seconds, Rachel was crouched beside her, shaking her in fear.

"Santana! Where is she?"

Santana could barely breathe, and the fact that she had one of the world's most annoying people hanging on her arm and shouting the same question over and over again didn't help. She paused, turning to look into worried dark brown eyes.

"Please, just tell me." Rachel wept, pressing her forehead against the taller brunette's shoulder and sobbing heavily.

"Dan. Dan's got them Rach, I'm so sorry. I can't believe-"

"Dan? What?" The diva said, looking up in surprise.

"He," Santana punctuated with a sniff, "He's the one who burned down Brittany's apartment. He's the one who tried to kill her - and I don't know why Quinn has been dragged into this, but he's a dangerous man. All I know is he's got them both, and he's fucking psychotic. I'm sorry Rach, I'm so sorry."

The Latina could barely believe she was apologising to the Jewish girl. Rachel let out a tortured groan as she took in the words, dropping to her knees in defeat.

It took about twenty seconds before Santana decided to put away all her hatred for the small brunette, and wrapped her arms around her, in any attempt to comfort her. Rachel didn't flinch, she responded by leaning in to the Latina's frame, whilst tears streamed down her face.

"Rachel, I'm... I'm sorry." Santana cracked out, her voice breaking as she gulped heavily, staring to the ceiling and praying silently for help from God.

They sat there for about ten minutes, both of them sobbing and feeling helpless. But suddenly Santana's phone buzzed, she released one arm that wrapped around Rachel to open it up, reading the caller ID and answering reluctantly;

"Puck." She whispered, withholding the sob that bubbled in her chest.

"Santana, what the fuck's going on?" The detective asked, his voice edged with anger.

"Lewis Saunders... It's Dan."

She could hear Puck's indecision to argue in the quietness invading the line.

"Are you sure?"

"Uh... Yeah. And he's got Britt and Quinn." Santana said quietly, squeezing Rachel's fragile frame against her body as she sobbed heavier at Quinn's name.

"What? How?"

"I don't know Puck. I came home, and no-one was there. I left Rachel with Quinn and Dan. And," She swallowed harshly, ignoring the dry burn that etched at her throat, "Britt was gone. I went to Quinn's and Rachel opened the door - and apparently she got a text from Q Puck."

Puck didn't respond, all she could hear was the background noise of what she could only assume was him getting in his car.

"He's fucking got them Puck. He's fucking got them." Santana repeated, clenching her phone tightly and hearing it bend under the pressure.

"Santana you've got to calm down. I'll be there in five."

The Latina sobbed, "Okay."

"Okay. Bye."

And the line rang out - leaving Santana listening to Rachel's heavy sobbing.

* * *

><p>Just as promised, Puck was knocking at the door within five minutes. She managed to shuffle from under Rachel, and move her to the sofa where she laid motionless, still whimpering.<p>

_She's really no fucking help in a crisis, _Santana thought to herself. She would've said it out loud but in this situation she thought it'd be better to keep her trap shut.

"Lopez. You need to calm down. Take deep breaths." Puck patronised, motioning breathing in and out with his hand.

"I know how to fucking breathe Noah." Santana spat, batting his hand away.

She knew it was a lie, right now she barely had enough strength to stand up, let alone keep her lungs fully functional.

"Right, I called Camberley - I've sent out seven squad cars looking for Saunders. They're gonna get him, I promise you." Puck said softly, wrapping his arms around the Latina and hugging tightly.

Santana hated feeling this vulnerable, she hated that Puck had to comfort her because she was so weak. She cleared her throat, and wiped her eyes with the corner of her sleeve before standing up straight, allowing the rage to burn throughout her body.

"We need to find this fucker Noah." She said firmly, clenching her jaw at the image of him hurting Brittany. "We need to find him now."

She balled up her fists, her short nails digging into her palm painfully as her pulse pounded loudly in her ears.

It was as if everything was going too fast, like she needed a life remote and to press pause in it just to take a breather. But as the infuriated Latina brushed passed the detective, aiming to storm out into the night and find Brittany - Puck yanked on her shoulder.

"_You_ aren't a cop. You need to stay here; stay put and wait for my call. I'm not having you get hurt and interrupt my case."

"But Pu-"

"No Santana. Don't make me cuff you to one of the bathroom pipes. You _are_ going to stay here. You're a fire-fighter, not a cop." Puck said firmly.

Santana's first reaction was to sucker punch him, grab his gun and steal his car (again). But she knew Puck wouldn't hesitate to arrest her if he thought she was risking her own safety, so she restrained her anger, gulping in a huge breath.

"Okay." Santana mumbled, feeling another hand wrap around her wrist as Puck took a phone call out on the patio.

"Santana, trust him. Please." Rachel said softly with an empathetic expression.

The Latina's first instinct was to laugh in the girls face, but she knew the pain she was going through, she knew how worried Rachel would be about Quinn. So she nodded slowly in confirmation to her request, feeling slightly strange at the fact that she felt like her and the diva had a connection.

"Lopez. Just got a call from Camberley. They've done some background research on Saunders and found out he's got a place in Union. We're sending some of the boys from my department there now - but I'm heading back to the station to see if we can dig up anything else." Puck said, walking in from the balcony and shoving his phone back in his jacket pocket.

"Thanks Puckerman. Are you sure there's absolutely nothing I can do?"

"No. You and Rachel stay here, wait by the phone and I'll call you with any updates." He responded, heading towards the door and opening it.

"I'll save them. Don't you girls worry. I'm gonna get this asshole."

Santana and Rachel both smiled gratefully, linking arms as the detective exited. The Latina would never admit it, but she liked the fact she wasn't going through this alone.

In some ways she was kind of thankful Quinn was dragged into it, because otherwise she'd have to face it single-handedly, and she didn't think that was possible right now.

A wave of guilt smashed into her, but she couldn't help feeling that way - it was horrible, selfish, but at least she had someone to lean on. Even if it did come in the form of Rachel Berry.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, it was 3am and Santana was rolling her forehead back and forth on the cold, metal railing on her balcony. A cigarette burning in her right hand, and mobile phone clutched tightly in her left.<p>

Her mind was racing with thoughts, and she couldn't help but feel as useful as a car with no wheels. A squeaking noise startled her as Rachel slid open the glass doors, and stepped out to join the Latina.

"How long have you been smoking for?"

"How long have you been annoying for Berry?" Santana retorted, lifting her head and staring out into the New York City skyline. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, so she pushed back her pride and apologised.

"It's okay. I know you're stressed." Rachel said, taking a few steps forward to lean against the railing to Santana's left.

"Do you mind?" She asked, gesturing to the packet of cigarettes on the side table.

Santana nodded, and was shocked as Rachel sparked up, inhaling and exhaling the fumes like she'd always been a smoker.

"I'm not the goody-two-shoes that you make me out to be Santana. I smoked for a few months in college, but Quinn made me stop. She hated it." The diva commented, not bothering to look the incredulous look pasted on Santana's face.

"Well shit Berry, never would've taken you for a rebel. Shame Quinn has you whipped otherwise we could be smoking buddies." Santana scoffed, inhaling another long drag.

"I'd do anything for her." Rachel said sadly, her eyes welling up slightly as she exhaled smoke.

"Puck's going to find her Rach."

The diva nodded, a sad smile crept across her face. "And Brittany."

Santana felt a twinge of guilt as she realised that Rachel Berry wasn't actually as bad as she'd always made out. But she couldn't prevent the wrenching at her heart at the possibility that she might not ever see her beautiful blonde again.

They stayed in silence for a few minutes, and as Santana finished her cigarette, she flicked it into the air, watching it fly before descending to the street below.

"Ra-"

Santana's phone buzzed, and she stopped mid-sentence, answering without looking at the Caller ID.

"Puck?"

"Uhm no sorry. This is Nurse James from the Downtown Hospital. I'm calling for a Santana Lopez?"

The Latina's heart dropped, and Rachel studied her with hopeful, wide eyes.

"This is her."

"I'm afraid to tell you Noah Puckerman is here, and you're his I.C.E contact so we need you to come down right away."

The taller brunette's eyes started welling up, all hope that she'd had suddenly faded as she heard the name of the one person she truly relied on for getting Brittany and Quinn back was in hospital.

She also felt slightly happy that she and Puck had got so close that she was his first contact in case of an emergency, but the hopelessness pushed that aside.

"Will do." She whispered, clicking her phone shut and staring at Rachel with teary eyes.

"Puck's in the hospital." Santana muttered, turning on her heels and into the apartment.

"What!" Rachel said, raising her hands, "What the fuck happened?"

If it wasn't for the situation, the Latina probably would've furrowed her brows at the smaller brunette who just shouted 'fuck' as if it was part of her daily vocabulary.

"I don't know. Are you coming or not?"

Rachel hesitated, which aggravated the Latina intensely. "Well?"

"No. I'm going to wait here. I'll call you if anything happens."

Santana opened the door, hovering and turning to the diva, "Are you sure?"

"If Quinn comes home I need to be here."

"Okay," Santana felt her mouth naturally restraining the words she was about to say, knowing they weren't an insult and they were directed at Rachel Berry was an odd feeling, "Thank you."

She didn't even stay around to here Rachel reply.

* * *

><p>It was around 5am when she arrived at the hospital. The lobby was deathly quiet as she walked up to the receptionist and got directions towards Puck's hospital room - only a few nurses stood at their station as she passed them to turn down the hallway containing Puck.<p>

She looked up at the room number _'Room 402'_, and inhaled deeply before reaching for the doorknob.

"Excuse me, are you Miss Lopez?" A deep voice asked, she turned around to meet a doctor, only a few inches taller than her with dark brown hair and circular glasses.

His eyes were a strange shade of brown, they almost had a yellow twinge to them but all Santana could really focus on was the large bags beneath them. The Latina nodded, and the doctor smiled, reaching his hand out towards her.

"I'm Doctor Brett Page, Mr Puckerman's surgeon."

Santana shook his hand before he flipped open the chart, scanning the page intently. The words didn't sink in until a few seconds later.

"Surgeon? What? Why did he have surgery?"

"Well I'm afraid to tell you that Mr Puckerman was a victim to a rather vicious arson attack which left him with major 3rd degree burns covering 25% of his body over his hands, back and legs."

Santana gasped, realising how close to death her best friend really was. It was if her life was falling apart right in front of her eyes.

"Due to the severity of them, his heart rate and peripheral vascular resistance increased because of the released catecholamine's from injured tissue which caused him to cardiac arrest. We operated on him set him on a machine that increases his cardiac output to increase the hyper metabolic needs of his body."

The Latina's mind boggled with the information. She couldn't really take it all in, but luckily her father had been a doctor and she was a nosey kid - so she'd read through several of his files, some of them including burns victims.

However the complicated vocabulary the doctor was cramming into one sentence completely through her off course.

"So how is he now?"

"He was in the ICU but he woke up only an hour after his surgery in a considerable amount of pain, but other than that we seemed alright. So we gave him some morphine and now he's slowly recovering in his room."

Santana flinched at image of Puck withering in pain, it wasn't something she'd ever thought of because he'd always been so strong and put together.

Never flinching when he slipped on the lemon knife at the bar and cutting himself, or when he woke up with a major hangover, there were never any complaints.

She knew he had a very high pain threshold, so the intensity of the agony he must be enduring was enough to cause the Latina to cringe.

"Can I see him?"

The doctor hesitated, and due to previous experience she knew he should've said no. But the pain in her eyes was too hard to say no too, so he nodded and Santana smiled, turning around to enter his room.

* * *

><p>The sight in front of her was enough to bring her to her knees. Puck lay on the hospital bed in front of him; his body was pale and emotionless.<p>

Several wires were being led out of him from needles stuck any inch of his pasty skin that wasn't covered by white bandage.

They led to packs of clear liquid hanging off a piece of metal by his bedside. A repetitive beep sounded throughout the room, reflecting his heartbeat, but Santana couldn't help but collapse on the floor as she approached his bedside.

The half of his body that could been seen was mostly covered in white bandage, a large strip was wrapped around his forehead, hiding the signature mohawk he'd sported ever since she'd met him.

His eyes were closed, but his lips curled up at the side slightly when Santana carefully gripped his hand with her own. The Latina smiled at the sight, but a single sob managed to escape her chest too.

"Don't go all sensitive on me Lopez." He cracked out, his throat obviously dry due to lack of liquids.

"Good to know your humour wasn't effected." Santana replied, squeezing his hand tighter. "How do you feel?"

"Crispy." He joked, wincing at the pain as he attempted to laugh.

"Can't even stop cracking out the jokes despite being in pain. Classic." The Latina retorted.

"At least I'm a man now. Got a story or survival and everything, chicks dig it. Well you'd know about that."

"Ah, thinking of your dick when you're lying in a hospital bed. You're such an idiot." Santana said, releasing her grip and shifting towards the armchair by his bed.

"Not my fault I'm a man." He said, trying to push himself further up the pillow, and failing as he whimpered at the tiny movement.

"Let me." Santana said, reaching over and repositioning his pillows so he was slightly propped up.

"I wanna get out this fucking hospital; the beds are just about as comfy as lying on a straw mattress."

"Puck, you've literally just got here. You've just come out of surgery, in a record time may I add, and somehow managed to wake up and still be the same douchebag you've always been. Not to mention 25% of your body being covered in third degree burns."

"Shit. Twenty-five percent! Gonna be some awesome scars." He said as Santana jabbed him incredibly lightly on a patch of his skin that wasn't bandaged.

She laughed lightly, completely forgetting the fact that some pyromanical psycho had kidnapped the love of her life and her best friend.

"Stop talking about your bloody war scars and tell me what the fuck happened."

Puck's laugh died, he exhaled heavily before nodding and attempting to slide up the bed slightly - attempting an whimpering in pain.

"It all happened so fast, one minute I was walking out your apartment and getting into my car. And the next I watched a bottle fly towards my windscreen and explode. It shattered my windscreen, but most of the flames stayed outside the car. But then I saw him San, I saw the fucker."

Santana gulped, as if this was a horror story being told at Halloween, but anger still burned inside of her.

"I almost didn't recognise him at first, but he still had those evil grey eyes that he had before."

The Latina was about to interrupt, and ask about the colour considering Dan had green eyes, but she swallowed the words, wanting, no, needing to know the story.

"It was like a flashback, and everything went in slow motion. I watched him light up the cloth attached to another bottle - and he smirked at me before throwing it through the crack in the windscreen. It hit me dead on, smacking straight into my chest. The next couple of minutes are blurry, but I remember throwing myself out the car in excruciating pain that just didn't seem to go away, even after I rolled about on the floor in attempt to put it out. But what was more agonising was knowing what my baby, my Lily had been through."

Santana could see the pain in Puck's eyes, she watched as his eyes glistened due to the extra moisture welling up in the corners of his orbs.

His lower lip quivered, as if he was trying to hold back the sobs, and he diverted his gaze out the window, settling on the large buildings positioned by the hospital.

The Latina's heart sank at the image, the detective just looked so broken, so hurt, and it wrenched at the brunettes heart so much to the point that she had to withhold her own tears.

"Puck..." Santana started, trying to find the right words to say, but before she could, Puck whipped his head round and she watched the anger flare up behind his hazely-green eyes.

"You've got to get this guy Santana. You have to. You have to do it for Brittany, for Quinn, for me, for Rachel. You have to do it." He spat, grinding his teeth down hard enough for the brunette to hear.

The Latina almost flinched at the harsh tone intruding Puck's voice; she wasn't used to him being so serious. She nodded, clenching her jaw and knowing she was the only thing that could save Quinn and Brittany, considering Puck was the only cop she'd ever rely on.

"Look San, you're gonna have to break some rules. I can account for some of your actions, but if you're gonna get him you're gonna need something."

He lifted his arm painfully, pointing to a black duffel bag Santana hadn't noticed sitting on a spare chair in the corner of the room.

Her head turned towards it, but her eyes were still locked on Puck. He nodded and she stood up, walking towards the bag and unzipping it.

"Puck, I can't. You'll get fired if anyone finds out."

"Take my badge too. Anyone asks you're Santana Puckerman of the NYPD. You know enough about the case to blag it. But you need to do this. Please. Before he hurts anyone, before he hurts Britt-"

"Okay." Santana cuts him off, not wanting the images to invade her mind.

She knew that if any popped into her head, her legs would give way and she'd end up sobbing, curled up on the floor - and that wasn't going to help anyone.

"You need to be strong Lopez. I know this is a lot to ask of you, but she needs you to be strong. If there was any other way, you know I'd take it - but right now I trust you more than any of my colleagues." He said, a sincere expression pasting his face.

Santana just nodded in response, grabbing the items inside the duffle bag and attaching them to various places around her body.

"Now go. Take my keys and my car; you're an honorary cop starting from now. And if you get caught, blame it on me."

Santana felt a huge weight push against her chest and shoulders - she knew how much pressure was on her right now. Quinn and Brittany's lives depended on it.

"Go," Puck paused, inhaling carefully, "Before I change my mind. This idea is getting worse the more I think about it, so just go and get your girl back."

The Latina's legs could barely move, but they carried her towards the detective and kissing him on the cheek gently before backing away and recieving a nod as she head out the door.

She stepped out of the hospital only minutes later, a gold badge attached to her belt and a 9mm pistol wedged down the back of her waistband, pressing against the small of her back.

It felt hot, and now she knew the literal meaning of 'packing heat'. But something felt different, it wasn't the new found career or the newly acquired items, it was like fear and pride were mixing together in the pit of her stomach.

The Latina inhaled deeply, feeling the slight restriction tugging on her oxygen supply but she pushed passed the pain as her nimble fingertips stroked the outline of the shiny gold badge.

She was going to rescue Brittany and Quinn, she was going to be a hero - and she was definitely going to need a large drink after this. With her head held high, she descended down the steps and towards Puck's undercover cop car.

Her eyes darted around the busy streets, spotting several males that resembled Dan/Lewis and wincing as her heart skipped a beat every single time. But she shrugged it off, entering the car and gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Watch out Saunders. I'm coming for you."


	17. seventeen

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Seventeen<strong>

Santana returned to Quinn and Rachel's apartment after searching for Saunders for three hours. She sighed heavily, banging the back of her head against the elevator wall as failure sunk in.

"What have I done?" She whispered. If only she'd acted a little bit earlier, and gone with her gut instincts, she could've prevented all of this.

After a few seconds, the elevator doors flew open and she stepped out into the eerie silent hallway leading to her best friend's apartment.

An itch formed at the back of her neck as she noticed something wasn't right - there was no sound coming from anywhere, apart from the background New York city traffic noises.

She slid her hand inside her jacket, raising it slightly as she curled her fingers around the weapon positioned in her jeans waistband, taking it out and arming it the way Puck had deemed 'the police way'.

Santana crept her way down the ugly green halls, her knees bent slightly to reduce any noise caused by squeaky floorboards as she approached the familiar door sporting the metal plate that had _2L _engraved into it.

* * *

><p><em>"Quinn you're not exactly lacking on funds. Could've dished out on professionals to do this fucking job." Santana spat after placing a rather heavy cardboard box packed full of her best friend's possessions.<em>

_"That's what friends are for." Rachel chimed, skipping in to her and Quinn's brand new apartment. _

_Santana's face fell into a scowl at the diva, before twisting with anger as she noticed what she was carrying, two fucking pillows._

_"Are you kidding me dwarf? I know you're short but that doesn't render you incapable of lifting something fucking heavy. Plus I'm sure you could balance at least half a dozen on that nose."_

_"Sanny, be nice baby." Brittany interjected, sliding her hands around the Latina's waist and placing them on her stomach, resting her chin against the tanned shoulder and pressing a kiss to the brunette's neck._

_Rachel beamed a smile at the Latina, whose anger had completely vanished since the dancer had touched her. She had to admit, it was one of the things she sometimes disliked about Brittany - she seemed to have this overwhelming power on Santana, like she could control her emotions with just a flick of a switch. _

_Admittedly, the Latina didn't mind, but in times like this it kind of pissed her off._

_"Aw, she's like your own little anger management." Quinn scoffed, placing another cardboard box down before heading out to grab another from the hallway, leaving Santana and Brittany alone._

_"Britt, seriously - you're ruining my reputation as top bitch." Santana said, turning into the blondes embrace._

_"I think Quinn and Rachel know how much of a sap you are San." Brittany whispered, leaning in to place a single, sweet kiss to the Latina's lips._

_"You'll be the death of me Brittany Pierce."_

_Brittany's face fell into a scared/shocked expression, "Am I going to kill you or something? San I don't want you to die! I'll stay away from you if that means you'll live!"_

_Santana let out a chuckle, which earned a slightly infuriated pout from the blonde, who's lower lip jutted out. _

_The Latina couldn't help but smile as the butterflies fluttered around in her stomach - she wondered to herself how it was so possible for someone as beautiful, kind, sexy, caring and adorable as Brittany could possibly exist. _

_Santana knew in that moment, she was going to spend the rest of her life with the blonde in front of her._

_"As if you could stay away from this." Santana teased, nuzzling her nose against Brittany's who started giggling and managing to shake away her thoughts._

_"And no you're not going to kill me Britt Britt, it's just an expression. Now c'mon, Quinn's gonna be made if she walks in on us making out and not helping."_

_The Latina pressed a few pecks to Brittany's lip, before squeezing her tightly and letting go. Her urges were attempting to yank her back and reattach her lips to the blonde, but she knew how pissed Quinn would be - so instead, she restrained herself and walked out into the hallway. _

_She spotted her blonde best friend leaning against the large window opposite the elevator, just staring out onto the streets of New York._

_"What else needs bringing up?" She uttered, walking up beside the blonde._

_Quinn's head snapped up, jumping at the sudden presence of the brunette. "Um, I don't know. There's still some stuff in the truck."_

_Santana hovered, pondering over the possibilities for Quinn being so deep in thought. _

_Her eyes were locked out onto something in the street, and when the Latina followed her eyesight, she saw a twirling Rachel Berry._

_"You sure you wanna do this? You've only known her for a couple of months Q."_

_"I love her San. And I want to start our lives together as soon as possible." Quinn said, smiling at the divas face as she waved frantically, noticing the blonde stare from street level._

_Santana hated to admit it, because she hated the reason, but she loved seeing Quinn so happy. All these years she'd never really been able to connect with anyone, not even Elijah, her high school sweetheart. _

_But then again, it was probably because he was in fact a he, and Q figured out she was gay two days after breaking up with him due to hooking up with a random chick at a bar._

_"I'm gonna marry that girl."_

_The Latina's jaw dropped as she turned to witness the gleaming eyes of her best friend. She knew that look only too well, but usually it was in a cerulean blue instead of hazel. _

_Santana had been debating with herself for a while whether her and Britt would ever take things further._

_They were basically living together anyway, Brittany's apartment was farely unused these days due to sleeping at the Latinas most nights - but the thought of making it official scared the crap out of Santana. _

_It'd meant they were properly growing up, and getting really serious. And the brunette had never really been able to commit to anything, apart from the relationship she'd been in for a year._

_"That's a whole lot of Berry you know. How's about you live with her for a few months and then reassess that statement." Santana joked, trying to switch her mind off as she thought of getting even more serious with Brittany._

_The brunette whipped her head around to Brittany who was standing about five metres away, studying the brass plate attached to Quinn's front door intensely._

_Santana grinned, watching Brittany's eyebrows furrow as her eyes squinted, like she couldn't read the inscription. Everything about that girl was just, amazing - and the Latina loved that she was all hers._

_"Don't act like you haven't thought about it with Britt." Quinn interrupted._

_Santana turned to see the blonde leaning up against the wall with her arms folded across her chest. Apparently she'd been watching Santana and her staring._

_"I just- I don't know if I can. What if everything goes wrong?" Santana uttered, fiddling with the cuticles on her nails instead of allowing her best friend to see her vulnerabilities. _

_Quinn stayed silent, before nudging herself off the wall and taking a step towards the Latina, who flickered her gaze up and then back down again._

_"What if it doesn't?" She said, walking off into the elevator and pressing a button. "You'll regret it if you don't." The trainee Lawyer added as the doors closed._

_Santana smiled at the thought, wandering over to the blonde and encircling the dancer's waist with her arms. _

_Her heart fluttered intensely at the image of being able to do this whenever she wanted in an apartment they called their own._

_"What you looking at baby?" She whispered into the blondes ear, who laced their fingers together on her tank top over her taut stomach._

_"This is an appropriate apartment for Quinn and Rachel."_

_The Latina's face contorted with confusion, mulling over the statement._

_"What?"_

_"They live in 2L. Quinn and Rachel. Two people, but not just two people. Two lesbians. Like their apartment, 2L. It's cute."_

_The brunette grinned, biting her bottom lip at Brittany's statement. _Only she could find that cute_ she muttered internally, before chuckling and kissing the dancers cheek._

_"C'mon, we've got more work to do."_

* * *

><p>The door edged open slightly as the Latina's hand twisted the key. The key ring's dangled together louder than she'd wished, but a quick clutch stilled them. None of the lights were lit, leaving Santana entering a dark room.<p>

_It's like a fucking movie _she thought, imagining the ghost faced killer jumping out and waving a nine inch knife in her face.

A smile crept across her face as she realised she could kill the fucker with just one pull of the trigger, and she relaxed slightly.

Santana's heart was still racing as she slid her palm up the wall, feeling for the hard plastic of the light switch before flickering on the lights - something none of those stupid pussies in horror movies seemed to do when entering a dark room.

The room was immediately illuminated, and a disgruntled Rachel Berry shot up, hair tangled into an interesting mess around her shoulders and dried salty tear tracks down the flushed cheeks.

"Quinn?"

Santana sighed; a sad smile overtook her face as she looked into broken, brown eyes.

"Oh, Santana." Rachel said, her eyes darting to the weapon and widening in shock. "Are you gonna shoot me?"

The Latina had completely forgotten about the pistol she was currently armed with, and tucked it away in the back of her jeans before chuckling slightly.

"Sorry. No. Puckerman gave it to me. Protection."

The divas face fell back into a sad smile, nodding at Santana's explanation before leaning back down and burying her face into the sofa fabric.

The Latina scratched her head, debating whether to tell the Jewish girl that she'd spent the last few hours searching the streets of NYC, failing to find Brittany or Quinn. But considering the current state, she bit down on her tongue.

Santana took a few steps into the apartment, sitting down on the edge of the sofa currently preoccupied.

Her hand hesitantly moved towards the girls leg, moving in comforting circular motions. Rachel started sobbing heavily, sitting up and leaning her forehead against into the Latina's shoulder.

The taller brunette's immediate instinct was to push the girl off, and insult her with a nose joke or something about her height - but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

So reluctantly, she wrapped her arms around the girl, pulling her closer and matching the heavy whimpering's.

The diva pulled back after a few minutes of awkward hugs, mixed with heavy sobbing and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Please find them Santana, please."

"I... I don't know where they are Rach. I-I looked, b-but I just couldn't... find them." Santana said, swallowing the lump that was lodged in her throat.

Her eyes still glistened with tears, but she fought them - knowing she had to be strong for the both of them, even if the other one was Rachel Berry. The diva immediately burst into tears, soaking the Latina's black v neck t-shirt.

"Please... Please." Rachel whimpered, rolling her forehead against Santana's chest, pleading for the Latina to find them. However Santana was getting slightly annoyed, feeling as if the Jewish girl was just rubbing in the fact that she was useless and hopeless.

"It's not like the movies Rachel. I can't just magically find them, it doesn't work like that."

The smaller brunette sat up promptly, looking into similar dark brown eyes and widening her eyes. The Latina studied her, almost seeing the light bulb click as she spoke.

"He's a movie freak."

"I don't really give a fuck about his hobbies. They're probably just as fake as him." Santana spat, pushing up off the sofa and pinching the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb in attempt to calm herself down.

"No Santana listen. He's a movie freak. And intellectually deficient."

"So? He's as thick as shit. That isn't gonna help us find Britt and Quinn dwarf."

Rachel flinched at the insult, and Santana immediately regretted it. She turned, about to apologise when the diva jumped up and stormed towards her.

"Look Santana. I get it okay? You love Brittany and you've just got her back and you want it to end up like a fucking fairy-tale. I get it, trust me I fucking get it. But right now my fiancée is missing and so is your girlfriend or whatever the fuck she is."

Santana gasped, _fiancée?_ But Rachel ignored the slip up, and continued;

"I don't give a fuck right now what shit is going on between you and Brittany, whether you're together or not. Marry her, make babies with her for fuck sake, anything - but step one is finding her. So get your shit together Lopez because you are the only person that can actually find and save them, and you know it. Puck gave you that gun for a fucking reason and I know it wasn't for 'protection' - so just fucking listen to me for once."

Rachel hissed, air quoting the last word and leaning into the Latina's personal space. Santana had to hold back the laugh at the diva's anger - but, not that she'd ever admit it, she was kind of scared.

Her mind was racing with images of her and Brittany shacked up in a typical surburban house with a white picket fence and a loveseat on the porch, watching two little kids run around the garden playing in the sunshine.

_Marry her, make babies with her for fuck sake, _the words were running around her mind, burning into her brain and causing her heart to swell until it was pressing against her ribcage.

But it almost immediately deflated, wincing at the sharp pain that punctured her organ as she wished Brittany was in her arms right now.

She pushed back on the Jewish girls shoulders and nodded, confirming that she was listening whilst trying to shove the thoughts out of her mind.

"Dan..."

"Lewis." Santana corrected, grinding her teeth at his name, but only recieving a scowling Rachel. "Sorry."

"Anyway, as I was saying. Dan or Lewis or whatever his name is, isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the box. And considering he spent around ninety-five percent of the time watching awful action thriller movies, his brain won't exactly summon a brand new idea of where to take kidnap victims. Meaning..."

The Latina's eyes widened, realising where the diva was going and smiling widely. "Meaning he probably would've got one of his ideas from a movie."

"Exactly." Rachel beamed, looking slightly cocky at the realisation.

"Let's get started."

* * *

><p><em>Santana crooked her neck to the side, watching pale eyelids flutter as the beautiful blonde slept laid next to her. She couldn't help but grin at the sight, and revelling in the feeling of having Brittany lay next to her. <em>

_A thin, white sheet was draping over the bottom half of Brittany, framing her long, slender legs and finishing just above her hips - leaving her trim waist gleaming in the sunlight as her grey tank top had ridden up sometime during the night._

_The brunette slid her hand across the mattress, and her forefinger traced up the toned abs, before gliding over the dip below the dancers ribcage, marvelling at the silky skin underneath her cloth bunched against her forefinger when she reached the top, just covering Brittany's bare best._

_She traced an invisible line up and down several times, relishing at the unbelievable sensation of being able to touch the blonde whenever she wanted, after Brittany accepted her proposal of living together._

_The blonde mumbled something in her sleep, turning onto her stomach and burying her cheek to the pillow, her face still turned towards Santana who watched her with love filled eyes._

_"You know it's slightly creepy when you do that." Brittany muttered, catching the Latina by surprise._

_"How do you know I was doing anything? You couldn't even see me." Santana challenged, scooting down the bed and shuffling closer to the blondes body until her stomach met Brittany's hipbone._

_"You think I need to look at you to know you're doing something? I can feel it San."_

_Santana allowed a huge grin to paste her face, as she nuzzled her face into Brittany's, making sure their noses touched and breaths mix together. _

_The dancer cracked open her eyes slightly, locking them with dark brown ones which were full of adoration._

_"Mhm, I love waking up to you. _Roomie._" She whispered against Santana's lips, leaving only a few millimetres between them. "Even if you're staring at me while I sleep, creep."_

_Santana giggled lightly, feeling her body tingle at the word 'roomie'. She leant in, allowing their lips to brush in an almost-kiss teasingly, before pulling back a few millimetres. "Like you don't love it." She added, closing her eyes and inhaling Brittany's intoxicating scent._

_"Not as much as I love you." Brittany said, words full of sincerity._

_The Latina smiled again, closing the gap and feeling the amazing rush that shot through her body as their lips met, melting against each other. _

_She took the dancers bottom lip between hers, and sucked slightly, receiving a quiet moan. Santana smiled into the kiss, and felt the blondes teeth graze against her bottom lip as she nipped gently. _

_She returned their lips together and relished in the feeling of their tongues reuniting, massaging and caressing each other._

_Santana wasn't entirely sure if she'd ever been as happy as she was right now. Not only was she kissing her soul mate, and feeling the love and adoration emit from their romantic kiss, but she could now do it 24/7 if she wanted because they were finally living together._

_The Latina's mind raced with these thoughts as her hands roamed the dancers toned body, delicately stroking every inch of her pale skin showing through her skimpy pyjamas - almost not being able to believe this was real life as the moment was so perfect. _

_She and Brittany, living together and she embellished in the feeling of constant presence of the dancer she was going to have, now and forever._

_But instead of losing herself in her mind, she allowed her body urges to cloud her mind as she deepened the kiss and pressed their bare bodies together._

_That was the moment Santana Lopez realised she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Brittany. She knew, somewhere along the line she was going to marry the girl - and that did nothing but intensify their intimate interactions._

_Santana sighs into the kiss, feeling as the blonde parts to straddle her hips, bumping their hipbones together. Brittany leant down, curtaining the Latina's face with her luscious blonde locks and smiled sweet, before pressing her lips back to the Latina's. _

_Santana's hand found Brittany's thighs and grazed her nails up and down the pale skin gently, whilst revelling in the way their bodies just clicked together perfectly like puzzle pieces._

_Brittany pulled away, bringing Santana into a sitting position as the blonde slid down to sit on the Latina's thighs. She ran her hands up Brittany's side, moving her kisses down to the dancer's neck and bringing the tank top up with one swift movement._

_The blonde girl lifted her arms up and shivered as the Latina's fingertips grazed up her ribcage. Arousal instantly shot down Santana's spine as she marvelled at the flat, taut stomach and silky skin covering every inch of her beautiful girlfriend._

_"Fuck you're beautiful."_

_Brittany smiled at the Latina's words and gripped the back of Santana's hair, pulling her into a heated kiss and grinding her hips down to release a miniscule bit of tension building between Santana's legs. _

_The blonde pushed her back against the bed, and the Latina rolled them over to rest in between Brittany's spread legs, grazing her teeth over her collarbone and neck, sucking gently at the pulse point._

_Her hands found the hardened, pink nipples and flicked them gently, earning a moan from the dancer. _

_Brittany's hands slid down Santana's back, hooking her thumb into the waistband of the Latina's pyjama bottoms and underwear, and sliding them down as the Latina shimmied slightly to push them further down the bed and losing them in the bunch of sheets at the bottom of the bed._

_Realising they both still had way to many clothes covering them, Santana knelt up, tugging the dancers shorts off as well as her own tank top, and throwing them somewhere in the room. _

_She pressed her lips to the valley between Brittany's breasts, and trailed her tongue to the right, taking a nipple in her mouth and flicking her tongue against it. Brittany's hands immediately found the dark locks, and tangled her fingers deep within them._

_Brittany returns their lips together in an intense, sexual kiss that shows their every intention and arches up to press their centres together, almost asking for attention. Santana grunts in confirmation and slides her fingertips down to glide through slick folds. _

_As much as Santana had planned to lengthen the arousal and tease Brittany, she could feel her own centre throbbing with need and decided to relieve the dancer's needs._

_Their kisses turn sloppy, tongues battling for sensual oral dominance whilst Santana's fingers worked wonders on Brittany's swollen nub, pinching gently and flicking several times. _

_The Latina smiles into the kiss, before kissing down the dancers body and resting between her toned thighs, pressing kisses up the insides until she meets a glistening centre. _

_A loud gasp sounded from Brittany as Santana ran her tongue flat against her wet folds, and darting her tongue into her wet flesh and up against her clit._

_Santana smiled, feeling the blonde's fists clench into her tighter as her centre tightened more and more with every stroke. With two more flicks, Brittany gasped and her body arched, shaking violently under the Latina's touch. _

_Santana awaits the orgasm, licking up the remaining juices and sucking once on the dancers clit, prolonging the intense orgasm that caused Brittany's eyes to roll back into her head and fists clench into the sheets._

_She then climbs back up the bed seductively, pressing kisses along the way and feeling the overwhelming happiness she gets from having this power over Brittany. _

_The blonde recovered, before trailing her fingertips up the inside of her thighs and cupping Santana's mound and applying slight pressure._

_The Latina moans, and grinds her hips into the blondes hand as she cups her neck, pulling her into an intense making out session whilst Brittany plunged one finger into _

_Santana's soaking wet flesh, and thrusting several times before adding another finger. The brunette takes the blondes lip between her teeth and nibbles gently, pulling back with the stretched flesh and groaning at the thrusting._

_Brittany couldn't help but grin sexily at the view, and started assaulting the olive neck, sucking, nipping and biting gently which sends only more arousal throughout the Latina's body. _

_Santana caught her breath as Brittany grinned against her neck, greeting the two fingers with a third and curling them upwards. But before Santana could even process what was going on, Brittany's mouth was against her centre, sucking at her swollen nub and sending her into an ocean of euphoria._

_Every inch of Santana's body tingled with an unbelievable sensation, a truly earth-shattering orgasm encountered her being and her legs turned to jelly, after returning breathless to the mattress._

_Brittany retracted her fingers and wiped them against the sheet, climbing back up the Latina's body and curling into her side._

_After about five minutes, Santana heard the light snores of her girlfriend and relished in the amazing feeling over happiness settling inside her stomach that would stay there for what she knew would be eternity. _

_The Latina turned her head, kissing the blonde hair that was tucked beneath her neck and whispering;_

_"I'm going to marry you one day Brittany Pierce."_

_The Latina fell asleep, revelling in the perfect moment that her and Brittany were sharing, and would share forever._

* * *

><p><em>Three days later, Santana was downing vodka by the pint in Rivera's armed with a cigarette. Brittany had left.<em>

* * *

><p>Four hours and two films later, the Latina stood up in frustration and punched the brick wall with all the force she could muster. It was a temporary relief for her anger, but it was also the cause of a broken knuckle and swollen thumb.<p>

"FUCK!" She yelped, clutching her throbbing hand.

"Well considering you did just punch a wall, that's probably an understatement." Rachel murmured, not bothering to rise to comfort the infuriated Latina.

"Shut up Berry. This is a stupid fucking idea. There's no house heavily fortified with armor and bulletproof glass for the owner's protection, nor an abandoned cottage at the end of a woodland path in New York City. So I think your plan has epically failed." Santana spat, tightening her grip and wincing at the sharp shooting pain that formed up her right arm.

"Despite your attitude and tone, I have to agree with you. These films are just to surburban for Dan."

"And Puck has got all exits of NYC searching for him so he hasn't left the city." Santana added, walking over to the freezer and pressing a bag of frozen peas to bruising skin covering her hand.

"So what's his angle?" Rachel asked rhetorically, tapping her chin as she was obviously getting into 'detective mode'.

Santana was about to comment, but realising she wasn't actually in the force herself, it would've been hypocritical.

The Latina returned to the sofa, plopping herself down in defeat as she examined the several DVD cases scattered across the coffee table in front of them. "I don't know."

"All the movies are too obvious. They've got the stereotypical look to them, creepy mansions or abandoned warehouses. He wouldn't directly copy them, he may not be intellectual but he's definitely deceptive."

Santana's mind clicked, the light bulb flicking on as she traced over Rachel's words. Despite having a love/hate relationship with the diva, she had to hand it to her; she couldn't have figured it out without her.

"Which means he'd do the opposite."

Rachel narrowed her eyes, confusion pasting her expression. "Wha-"

"He'd go where the police wouldn't expect to find him. They wouldn't look somewhere they'd already been too. Fuck! Why didn't I think of it before!"

The diva still looked completely oblivious to the obvious location of the two missing women. Santana stood, grabbing her keys and shoving the gun down the back of her jeans before heading towards the door.

She felt as Rachel followed her, but she turned and placed her palm against the shorter woman's shoulder, who pouted at the motion.

"Stay here."

"Where are you going?" Rachel asked, shrugging off the hand and leaning against the door as Santana walked down the corridor.

She turned, cracking open the door which lead to the stairs and staring back at the diva who stood in the entrance of her apartment, looking really confused.

The Latina watched the Jewish girls fingers tap against the doorframe impatiently before answering;

"I know where they are."


	18. eighteen

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Eighteen<strong>

Santana pulled up outside a large bricked building. She switched off her engine and glanced to the left, seeing two burgundy canopies protruding from the front of the building, hovering over several wooden tables and chairs stacked up, charred and blackened with ash.

Large white writing on the edge of the canopies read 'Veniero's', and an equally large neon sign was sticking off the side of the apartment reading the same thing, and the date '1894'.

Santana remembered the original state of the building, when the windows weren't broken and the brick was a terracotta colour instead of being tinted with blackened smoke.

She laughed internally when she looked at the metal fire escape stairs, connecting to balconies. She'd always thought they were a fucking stupid idea - because fair enough they could be used, but if the fire was blocking the window to get to the fire escape, you'd be pretty fucked.

The Latina look a large gulp of air, glancing around the deserted street and wishing that a cop car would swerve round the side, and back her up. But no-one apart from Rachel knew she was there, and knowing Berry and her view on NYPD, Santana was going to have to do this alone.

She stood outside the car, flicking the ash from the cigarette she clutched in her right hand and took a large drag - before dropping it and stamping it out.

Admittedly Brittany wouldn't exactly be happy, but it calmed her nerve and stopped the continuous shaking in her fingertips when she grasped the gun. If she needed anything right now it would be a steady trigger finger.

Large black and yellow striped tape with 'POLICE SCENE' imprinted on it was creating an 'X' - in attempt to keep out any intruders. However when Santana leant in, she could see the corners had already been pried off and stuck back into its original position.

Her heart pounded furiously, knowing her suspicions had been right. At this moment, she was probably around five metres away from the love of her life, who was right above her head.

She took a step back and spotted one of the broken windows, positioned by the fire escape where Saunders had chucked the molotov cocktail. The break was completely circular, a skilled throw to say the least.

So she gripped the gun, darting her gaze around the street a couple more times to make sure no-one was watching and slipped under the tape.

* * *

><p>With one swift yet quiet movement, she pressed down the handle and stepped inside the stairway. A large gust of old smoke invaded her lungs, and if she hadn't have been a fire-fighter for a few good years, it probably would've caused her to cough. But luckily, her presence, as far as she knew, was still undetected.<p>

The gun sat comfortably in her hand, like she belonged with one. Like it was her calling. She'd never felt the sense of pride and power like she was feeling now whenever she was on a job in her fire-fighter's profession.

Her mind boggled at the possibilities for her future, police academy maybe - but then it cleared, reminding her of the fear creeping down her spine.

An cold chill pricked her skin, but it wasn't due to temperature. She could feel the apprehension and distress hanging in the air as she stealthily ascended the stairs - gun at the ready and eyes pin pricking every movement in the air, no matter the size.

The adrenaline coursed through her veins, causing almost an enhanced sense of courage and bravery to overtake her body. The floorboards squeaked under her footing, obviously weakened by the fire so she tread carefully - knowing from her FDNY training where the most likely spots to fall through weakened floors were, so she stuck to the sides.

Santana swallowed heavily, suddenly very aware of how quiet everything was. She expected to hear something, cars or birds - but there was only an eerie silence, mixed wither her ragged breathing which she was muting as much as possible.

The gun felt heavy in her hands, her forefinger hovering over the trigger with uneasiness, waiting the slightly movement to press down.

However Puck had told her whilst training her that the best shot is usually taken when time slows down, the seconds before knowing it's too late.

_A happy trigger finger never hits the target, or never hits it as accurately as one that has a deep inhalation of fresh oxygen to relax._

It only just hit Santana at that moment that the detective knew this moment would come, he knew something would happen that required the Latina to know her way around a gun - and she was incredibly thankful.

Memories of the night of the fire flooded back to her, and she could almost feel the imaginary heat of the past fire, the heavy air coated with smoke and the way her heart pounded with adrenaline from the intense situation.

* * *

><p>Half of Brittany's apartment door was still lying on the floor, the rest was lying in the form of a pile of ash next to it. She remembered kicking it off the hinge, in attempt to get Brittany out as quickly as possible without damaging her foot as it'd still been alight.<p>

She remembered the way she felt, with the dancer in her arms after so many months, the heightened sense of appreciation and adoration she felt after their interesting reunion.

Santana had to push through an invisible wall, which almost prevented her from entering the apartment. But when she did, she saw the reason why she'd been held back. The room was covered in ash, barely any furniture remained, and the bits that were, were heavily charred.

It was a wide open space now, the half wall separating the kitchen and living room had been burnt to a crisp, along with most of the kitchen cabinets and stove.

The short hallway with two doors still remained to her left, just passed the burning chair she'd previously stepped over. It was only blackened from the smoke, but otherwise untouched by the fire considering the rooms were at the back of the apartment.

A head of blonde hair caught her attention in the corner of the room. Brittany was hunched on the floor, hands tied behind her with white cloth and a similar one tied around her head, sinking in her mouth to prevent her from speaking.

She was positioned next to a grinning male figure, hooded by the shadows but the sharp, shiny object pressed against the dancer's side sparkled in the streetlight. Brittany's head whipped up, meeting Santana's eyes as she felt her presence.

Their eyes connected and the Latina's heart sunk, seeing the sheer panic and fear dwelling beneath the azure orbs.

"You took your time Santana."

Saunders said, smirking evilly whilst pressing the point of the knife further into Brittany's side, causing her to bite down on the mouth gag.

The Latina felt the fury burn through her body, causing her skin to prick with anger. She clenched her jaw and brought the gun up to aim it at the brown head of hair next to Brittany.

"Thought you would've figured it out sooner with the help of the brunette dwarf. You kept us waiting."

Santana felt her forefinger twitch in anticipation to fire the weapon. But she knew the chances of hitting Brittany were too high, otherwise she would've done it already.

"Don't you dare call Rachel dwarf you fucking asshole, only I can insult her."

Brittany's eyes flickered up to meet Santana's with a slight smile and the Latina defending the diva. However Saunders chuckled evilly, shaking his head whilst twisting the knife.

Santana's breath hitched, knowing only a couple more applies of pressure and he'd harm the blonde, and the brunette didn't think that was something she could see

"Let her go." She commanded, in a rough, deep voice.

He brought his finger to trail up her arm, before continuing to her neck and cheek - finishing at her temple. He crooked his head to the right, leaning in and inhaling Brittany's scent, which only infuriated the gun-wielding Latina.

"I'd prefer not to. Besides, she wants me to be here."

Santana hadn't removed her eyesight from the blonde pleading since they first locked, but she darted to meet unfamiliar grey eyes.

He smiled the same devious grin he had on the first few days of them meeting, and she curled her upper lip into a snarl, suddenly aware of another presence missing from the room.

"No. She doesn't. And never will. Where the fuck is Quinn?"

Brittany's eyes faltered, as if she was completely hopeless and about to break down. The Latina's first instinct was to throw herself at the blonde, making sure she was unharmed and alright and just embracing her, and never letting go.

But she restrained, knowing she'd probably get herself and Brittany harmed, if not killed.

"Oh, your other little blonde friend. Well I'm afraid she got a little persistent with convincing me to let Brittany here, go. Frankly, it was fucking annoying."

Saunders said, emphasising the swear word. Once again Santana's heart sunk a little further, images of a crying Rachel swarmed her mind at the loss of her_ fiancée_. God, it still felt weird thinking of them as _engaged._

She felt her heart crack at the possibility that she'd lost her best friend, due to not going with her gut instincts. It would be here fault if Quinn was dead.

She could feel her trigger finger twitching, all she needed was one chance, one movement and she could shoot him to finish this.

"Don't you worry, I just slipped her a little something - she's in the back room. I'm dealing with her after I'm done with you." He commented, snarling at the last sentence and digging the blade a tiny bit deeper into Brittany's side.

Santana winced and squeezed her eyes shut, hiding the beautiful blue orbs that were slowly tearing the Latina apart. She felt so hopeless, only being able to witness the dancer in pain, and not being able to do a single thing about it."

"Removing you two from the situation will make everything just so much easier. Plus that little hobbit of Quinn's will be too broken to do anything, so killing her isn't a necessity."

"Just let Brittany go Saunders. I fucking swear I will take a great enjoyment in ripping your head off with my bare hands if you hurt her."

Santana growled, squeezing the weapon harder in her right hand, flinching at the intense shooting pain that was screaming at her to release due to her broken knuckle.

If it wasn't for all the adrenaline preventing her pain receptors for reacting, she'd definitely be in a considerable amount of agony.

"A little ironic coming from you? Don't you think?"

The statement caught Santana off guard, and she lowered the gun a tiny bit in confusion.

"You don't want me to hurt her - yet you've been doing that for weeks? Oh yes Santana, I know. Little Brittany here has filled me all in about your past. How she basically pleaded for you to come back, and then you fucked her and left. How you couldn't make up your own mind, and put her through excruciating emotional pain due to your indecision?"

The Latina flinched at the man's words, she could see tears seep out of Brittany's eyes but her expression was unreadable. Santana lowered the gun, feeling the impact of his words; she'd prepared herself for physical pain - but not emotional torture.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she swallowed heavily, trying to suppress the acidic bile bubbling in her stomach, the pain crawling up the inside of her oesophagus.

"Yeah. I know all about that. I bet she fed you the lies we planned. How much of a mess she was after she left and how she 'more or less curled up into a ball and allowed the misery to devour her'?"

Saunders repeated Brittany's words from one of their previous night's together. It was like he was digging the knife he possessed into her heart, slowly but painfully. He knew exactly what to say, he knew what would affect the Latina and she couldn't help but feel the impact.

_"I love you. I'm still totally and completely in love with you Santana. You don't have to love me back, and I would say I'm going to give you my heart but you already have it."_

Saunders mocked in a higher voice that was probably supposed to represent Brittany's tone. The brunette was immediately sucker punched, causing all the air to escape her body and leave her clutching her chest in desperation for oxygen.

The gun she was clutching had now fallen to her side, her knees turned to jelly as she felt the impact of his words.

_Had Brittany been playing her this whole time?_ Santana thought, imagining the dancer and Saunders cuddled up on the sofa creating this elaborate plan to tear her apart.

Her knees buckled under the pressure, not being able to handle the emotional agony she was enduring. Brittany muffled something, watching the Latina sink to her knees in a mess, tears streaming out of both their eyes.

Santana looked up to lock eyes with the wicked glint in Saunders grey eyes. He spat the words maliciously, knowing exactly what effect it would have on the brunette.

With one swift movement he launched forward, grasping the gun and aiming it to Santana's head. She looked up to see his hideous smirk that pasted his face, and felt nothing but agonising tribulation she was going through.

He pressed the end of the gun deep into the olive skin covering Santana's temple. He twisted the gun, mirroring the twist in the Latina's stomach. Her pulse was pounding heavily, she could hear it in her ears as she stared at the dancer still scrunched up on the floor pleading to her.

Saunders chuckled evilly, watching the silent exchange of _'Is it true?' _and _'I love you'_ going on between the two women.

Misery racked through Santana's body as she couldn't read the response to her first question, her heart wrenched, as if all the heartstrings had snapped under the man's words.

She could hear his trigger finger getting happier as he witnessed the exchange, and she squeezed her eyes shut, allowing thousands of happy memories with the blonde rush through her mind.

* * *

><p><em>They were sitting beside Lima Lake, sporting identical black bikinis covered by jean cut-off short shorts. <em>

_Santana couldn't find the feeling she had for her best friend anymore, ever since their first kiss - something bubbled inside of her, and grew larger and larger every day._

_They hadn't kissed since then, and they'd both hooked up with other people - but something about today felt different. It was just those two, no-one else was around as the sun beat down, tanning their skin whilst they lay in sweet silence._

_"Santana?"_

_The Latina opened her eyes, propping herself up on her elbows to see the blonde sitting up, cross legged by her stomach._

_"Yeah B?"_

_The dancer tugged her bottom lip between her teeth nervously, "Do you trust me?"_

_"Of course B. Why?" Santana answered, watching the blue eyes pierce her heart and send what she could only describe as sparkles fly through her body._

_"Close your eyes."_

_The brunette crooked her head to the side, curious to Brittany's words. But she knew if she questioned it, the blonde wouldn't believe the sincerity in Santana's trust. So she obliged, closing her eyes underneath her sunglasses._

_She felt Brittany's fingers brush against her cheek and temple, removing the sunglasses and causing her eyelids to switch to a bright orange colour as the sun greeted them. _

_The only noise surrounding them was crickets and the water swashing lightly against the bank as Santana laid on her towel not knowing what her best friend sitting on a similar towel was doing._

_She licked her lips, and brushed her tongue lightly against the back of her teeth - prepared to ask what was going on before she felt lips press against hers. Santana's mouth opened in reaction. _

_The Latina opened her eyes in surprise and saw Brittany's face attached to her, before closing her eyes and melting into the kiss._

_Her heart was pounding loudly as the dancers hand wound its way up Santana's neck, cupping the nape and securing their lips together. _

_Santana slid her hand up Brittany's side, brushing her fingertips against her bare ribcage and pressed against the small of the blonde back, pulling her on top of her._

_Brittany smiled into the kiss, giggling slightly and then returning their lips. It felt so right, kissing Brittany - and she wondered why they hadn't been doing it all this time. _

_She didn't know if this made her gay, or bisexual - but she didn't really care, because she was undeniable in love with her same sex best friend._

_It was like a weight had been lifted off Santana's shoulders as Brittany threaded their fingers and flicked her tongue against the Latina's lips, seeking entrance. Once granted, their tongues touched and it sparked a flow of arousal and adoration. _

_Santana's breath hitched in her throat, and almost bare bodies present against each other, and the Latina's hands settled on Brittany's hip, squeezing slightly to prolong the kiss. _

_The dancer's hands were on her neck and hair, still locking their faces together as they started switching sides, alternating their kiss and transforming from full on making out to little kisses, and then intense, hot ones to fluffy, romantic ones._

_After a good few minutes, both of them pulled away from each other in need of a lot of air. Brittany crooked her head to the side, wiggling her hips against Santana jokingly._

_"I have wanted to do that for such a long time."_

_Brittany stared at Santana awkwardly for a second after her words, but then smiled and placed one last peck on her lips, rolling off and returning to her sunbathing. _

_Santana giggled lightly and linked their pinkies together - placing her sunglasses back on and taking one last sneaky peak at the dancer before relaxing into the sunrays._

_Yep. Santana Lopez was stupidly in love with her best friend._

* * *

><p>Santana yelped, feeling an intense shooting pain run through her right shoulder as she felt the bullet invade her skin. Saunders chuckled quietly, allowing the gunshot to bounce around the room.<p>

Her head throbbed intensely under the pressure, and she slumped onto her left side against the floor.

Her hand immediately found the wound and clutched it tightly. Not only was she in excruciating emotional torture, but not she was in intense physical agony due to a bullet lodged in her shoulder.

She couldn't make out much besides the all-consuming throb that was overtaking her body. Her head swam with pain, emotional and physical and her breath was getting shorter by the minute.

She didn't know a lot about getting shot, but she knew she had to apply pressure to the injured area quickly. However Saunders had different ideas and he brought his large Timberland boot up to her frame, and pressed down harshly on the bloody bullet wound.

What can only be described as a screaming, gargling cry escaped the brunette's lips, accompanied by a muffled cry from the blonde in the corner who thrashed herself around on the floor - not moving from her position.

"S-Saunders yo-you a-a-asshole!" Santana screamed, her fingers tightening into a grip and the stinging in her bone still remained as her knuckles clicked, probably worsening the break.

"You're going to start feeling woozy in a second, the intense pain will thrive through your body and burn every last bit of will to live, away. You'll probably pass out, and around twenty minutes later you're going to bleed to death whilst I kill Quinn, and Britt and I escape together."

Saunders beamed, removing his foot and wiping it along the floorboards. Santana watched as he held his head high, marvelling in his plan that seemed to be working out so well.

"But first. I think you at least deserve the story of Brittany and I - well my side anyway." Saunders started, crouching down to lean on his knee as he waved the weapon around loosely in front of the dying Latina. It was if his words were slicing through her chest and ripping out her heart, unbearable.

"Well, I just couldn't resist the first time I met her. We ran into each other at Starbucks, not that she'd remember. But who am I kidding; we fell in love at first sight really." He said, turning to look at the blonde whose cheeks were representing waterfalls.

"Anyway, we ran into each other and she dropped her coffee - so as the gentleman I am, I bought her another and she headed home... I followed her that day, and when I learned where she lived I just couldn't leave her alone. You could say I was stalking her, but personally I think that word is a bit ugly - I prefer anonymously admiring from afar. I had to change my identity, swapping my name for Daniel Lewis instead; popping two contacts in and bulking up really can allow you to avoid the cops, doesn't it. Well anyway, I knew Brittany and I belonged together. Something was just pulling me to her, you see?"

"P-probably, you're fuc-fucked up h-h-head." Santana stuttered, still withering in pain. Saunders press his heel into the Latina's good shoulder and she rolled onto her back, so she was staring up at him.

"Now, now. You know it's rude to speak when I'm speaking Santana. As I was saying. I sent her flowers, and cards - but she didn't seem to be responding. So I thought what better way than to use my pyromanical skills to force us together? It was only hours later that I was throwing a molotov through her window, just at the correct angle so she could get out without any major damage at least."

He exhaled heavily, waving the gun about carelessly and stretching his back.

"However I wasn't anticipating your arrival, which I was oblivious of at the time. But when she was in hospital, I watched her every move, disguising myself as nurses, doctors and porters. As you can tell, I'm a master of disguise; green contacts are pretty simple, but _so_ effective."

Santana thought of his grey eyes. Contacts. Fucking contacts and she hadn't even thought about that. He walked around the apartment slowly, holding the gun behind his back as his hands were clasped together.

He stopped at the broken window, fingering the outline carefully as he spoke. Santana kept blinking heavily, fighting the groggy feeling that was trying to overtake her brain.

"Anyway, and she was released. So I decided to get to know her a bit better by faking my own burned down building. Of course she's so fucking stupid and naive; she didn't think anything of it."

Santana lurched, failing as the agony held her back and she collapsed on the floor once more. Anger flared through her, battling for dominance against the excruciating pain that was being inflicted on her.

"Sh-she's not f-fucking s-st-stupid." She hissed, clenching her jaw and wincing as she rolled about helplessly against the weakened floorboards.

"I think different, considering my plan has gone just as I thought it would. After a few cups of a coffee and a long talk, she told me about a spare place she had. Well, yours and hers place as I later found out. She was quite restricted from my advances, so what better what to get close to her and have my way then tell her I'm a raging homo? Once again, stupidity allowed her to believe me and then I could touch her whenever I want. We slept in the same bed, bodies pressed against each other, feeling every dip and contour in her body. It was just perfect."

The Latina hissed, biting on her lip in jealousy as she image of them touching each other was yanking on her thin heartstrings. Her brows furrowed and jaw clenched, trying to push the images out her brain.

"Well we stayed there for a while, and it was only when I came out the shower to _you_ in the apartment that I realised I had a fault in my amazing plan. You just had to walk back into her life and fuck it up didn't you?" He spat, kicking Santana in the side and causing her to ball over in more pain.

"I tried to discourage her, and tell her all those things about you. Most of them were lies, but I could see she still loved me. However I could also see the effect you had on her, and that, well, that just wasn't any good now was it Britt Britt?"

His eyes darted to Brittany who was still staring at Santana on the floor, her eyes were packed full of pain which only made Saunders even more infuriated. With one movement, he squatted and dug the point of the gun into the Latina's wound, twisting and applying a heavy amount of pressure to it as Brittany muffled out a cry. Santana screamed out once more, thrashing against the wooden floor.

"And then I found out about 'Puck' as you call him. Detective Noah Puckerman, the bane of my existence. He's been following me for years, and he already got too close once - which resulted in his pretty blonde wife's death. It was a shame, she was definitely a looker."

Santana flinched, her nose flared as the anger was almost too much to bare. She needed to do something, but her body was letting out on her. The groggy feeling was crawling from the back of her mind and attempting to force shut her eyelids - she battled, keeping them open with every ounce of strength she had.

"Yet again, he got a bit too close to the case. Thanks to you. So I had to let him suffer. Unfortunately it didn't kill him, but he's a fighter - so I'm not that surprised. But at least he's temporarily out the way, giving me enough time to finish my wonderful plan."

Saunders continued, brushing a lock of hair behind Brittany's ear and kissing her gently on the temple.

"But you. You just had to fuck it up even more. As if your presence wasn't bad enough, you went ahead and fucked her didn't you. Admittedly, when she was hurting and used me to comfort her it was alright, but I knew how in love with you she was. I could see it in her eyes. And here's the climax of the story - it's time for you to be taken out the picture, so she can fall in love with me. Without you, my plan will succeed. As long as you're six foot under, Britt and I can live happily ever after."

Santana rolled on the floor as her body was shortly shadowed by Saunders. He smiled down at her, raising the gun slightly and directing it to her torso.

She took a deep breath in as she her eyelids hooded her eyes, everything in sight going fuzzy. She rolled her head to the side to meet the gaze of Brittany's deep blue eyes, gleaming with tears and full of love.

Everything started going in slow motion. The evil chuckle that erupted from Saunders chest as he pressed harder on the trigger slowed down and for a few seconds - it was just Santana and Brittany's locked eyes that mattered. Nothing else was in the room, no pain, emotional nor physical - just their locked eyes.

"I love you Brittany." She breathed as another bullet entered her torso and her eyes rolled into the back of her head, fading into the blackness.

* * *

><p><em>182 days ago, Santana confessed her love for Brittany. Now, half a year on, they were still head over heels in love with each other - not that either of them had said those three words, eight letters, huge meaning.<em>

_The Latina had it hovering on the tip of her tongue for so long, and every time she went to say it - something hitched in her throat, causing the words to be swallowed back down._

_For a six month anniversary, Santana was taking Brittany to Giorgio's on 2nd avenue, after attending a show at Beekman theatre. Brittany was so ecstatic when the Latina had told her, and promised to make up for it later. _

_They'd both got dressed, Brittany in a knee length blue halter neck dress, enhancing the blue in her eyes and causing the Latina's jaw to drop to the floor. Her blonde hair was in loose ringlets around her shoulders, and her make-up was light - but she was absolutely breath-taking._

_Santana was sporting a tight red dress, clinging to her every curve and enhancing her body with a fluffy animal shrug covering her shoulders. They'd attended the theatre and were now walking hand in hand towards Brittany's favourite restaurant._

_A young waiter named Adriano, who turned out to be Giorgio's (the owner) son led them through the crowded restaurant and out into a little alcove in the garden, surrounded by tea lights and fairy lights with a two seated table in the middle. _

_Brittany's face lit up as Santana guided her by the waist, leaving Adriano by the door as she sat the dancer down._

_Santana buzzed with happiness, watching the blonde in her element as there was a tiny waterfall with a medium sized pond with tiny ducklings swimming about in it - per Santana's strange request._

_The Latina had already ordered for them, Italian pasta with meatballs - and they re-enacted Lady and the Tramp, nudging the meatballs across the table and sucking on an end of pasta, meeting in the middle for a kiss whilst their fingers were threaded together over the table._

_The brunette watched the dancer in awe, marvelling at the happiness that overtook her expression. Her eyes gleamed and she was tucking into her pasta, munching heavily whilst Santana couldn't restrain a giggle whilst watching._

_"You alright baby?" Brittany muttered, sipping on the glass of white wine by her side with her free hand._

_"Couldn't be better." Santana replied, playing with the blondes fingers whilst they were still interlaced._

_Brittany smiled and tucked in again, struggling with one hand but refusing to let go of Santana's, which she only found too endearing. Her mind raced with thoughts of her and Britt's future, marvelling at the fact that they were going to be together for eternity. _

_She loved the dancer so much; she would do absolutely anything for her because of how in love with her she was._

_"I love you."_

_Brittany widened her eyes at the three words, and even Santana wasn't aware she'd let the words slip out. It'd been so natural, and yet a complete accident. The blonde smiled, gulping down her mouthful and licking her lips._

_"And I love you."_

_Santana's heart fluttered, it was the perfect moment to say it and it was returned with just as much meaning behind it as she had said it with. From that moment she knew she was eternally devoted to Brittany and that for her, she was the one._

* * *

><p>"Let's untie you baby, and get out of here."<p>

Santana was aware of voices in the room, but her eyelids were preventing her from seeing them. The whole of her body was aching, almost burning due to the sharp, shooting pains blanketing her body.

"YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!"

Due to being too weak, the Latina could only smile internally at the luscious sound of Brittany's voice.

"Brittany baby. What are you talking about? I've done what you wanted. I've killed her. Look at her."

The brunette felt the blue eyes pierce her body, and then an added whimper and sob accompanied it. She wanted to open her eyes, and summon the strength to yell her heart was still beating, to tell Brittany how much she loved her and just sort everything out so they could be together happily with no arsonists interrupting. But she couldn't.

"Dan! Get the fuck off me! I'm never going to love you! You're fucking psychotic!"

It was so un-Brittany to swear, and yet she was mouthing off like it was part of her daily vocabulary. She could tell how angry she was, and she wanted to share the anger and just kill Saunders.

Santana felt Brittany's presence as their fingers laced together, and the dancer dropped beside her into a kneeling stance.

"Britt baby, please. She's out of your life now, we can be together."

"I don't want to be with you Dan! You are so delusional! It's her Dan! She's the one for me, and I am _never_ going to love you! It doesn't matter how much distance you put between us, or if you remove her from my life - I am always going to love her with every bit of my heart!"

Santana's heart swelled at the dancer's words - feeling every ounce of love that reinforced her sentence. The Latina heard a slap accompanied by a thud, and suddenly Brittany's breath was hot against her cheek.

But almost as quickly as she got there, her body was removed from Santana's side.

"YOU FUCKING UNGRATEFUL BITCH! I DID ALL OF THIS FOR YOU! FOR US! FOR US TO BE TOGETHER!" Dan screamed loudly, and Santana flinched internally.

She needed to know what was going on, she needed to know what Brittany was doing and what was happening to her. Somehow, she managed to muster the only strength she had in her body to flutter her eyelids opened.

They immediately scanned for the blonde, who was standing incredibly close to the male figure. She focused on the hands of the man who was holding Brittany up by the collar of her t-shirt angrily, spitting violent words at her.

He slapped her hard, and Santana winced - immediately flaring up and feeling like Superman after having kryptonite being removed from his personal space. She watched Saunders as he brought the gun up to Brittany's face, poking her with it and taunting her with the weapon.

The Latina watched as tears flowed from the blonde's eyes, leaving huge salty trails down her cheeks and it just somehow managed to remove all the pain from Santana's body, powering her to struggle to her knees, and pressing against the floor to stagger to her feet.

Santana wasn't entirely sure what happened in those few seconds, but she was now hunching over, clutching her stomach as blood seeped out her bullet wound. Once again, everything slowed down.

The sounds of NYC finally entered the apartment, cars beeping incredibly slowly.

The Latina's heart was pounding, every beat sounded ridiculously loudly in her ears. She watched Brittany turn her head towards her, blue eyes gradually flickering to meet brown ones as Dan pulled tighter on the trigger, as the gun was aimed to her head.

Santana lurched forward, staggering forward a few steps, once again in slow motion and connected with the muscular side of Saunders body.

He released Brittany who flew backwards from his grip, smashing into a charred table which crumbled under her touch and she slumbered against the wall, onto the floor.

The Latina pushed forward with all her might, feeling Saunders press his chest into Santana's and bring the gun up over her shoulder, firing several bullets into the apartment.

A loud smash echoed throughout the room, and his body was removed from the Latina's as he fell through the third story window, with a thud signifying his body as it connected with the pavement.

The brunette panted heavily as she leaned half in and half out of the apartment, the cool breeze swishing her hair and prickling her heated skin.

Her breath was ragged and she examined Lewis Saunders figure lying on the concrete pavement below, red liquid seeping out the side of his head and lower back as a huge glass shard protruded from his side.

Her heart was still pounding furiously, hearing the sound of sirens bursting through the air. Her knees buckled, allowing her to sink to the floor in a heap.

The physical pain was too much to take; her shoulder and stomach seeped blood, and she felt her head spin with dizziness. She was slowly and painfully, bleeding to death.

A hot palm brushed against her cold-sweated forehead, sweeping the hair away from her pale face. She looked up to meet cerulean orbs staring down at her, tears leaking out and dropping onto Santana's body.

Brittany was glaring at her, and she felt her heart swell with love as she looked into eyes that reflected back all the love she felt.

"San, please. Don't give up. Please hold on." She pleaded, squeezing the olive hand tightly as Santana's eyelids started hooding down.

"Britt..." Santana breathed, the edges of her mouth curling up into a tiny smile.

"I'm here baby. I'm always here. I love you. Please, just stay with me."

Santana could feel the hot sensation of Brittany's warm palm burn the Latina's deathly-cold skin as she attempted to warm her up. There were so many things Santana wanted to say to Brittany before she died - there were so many words, sentences, memories, future plans that she wanted to share with the dancer, and they weren't processing.

She wanted to tell Brittany how much she loved her, and how she forgave her for leaving. She wanted to tell her how it didn't matter, because it only increased their love, and told them they could fight through anything, as long as they were together.

She wanted to tell her that she wanted them to get married, live in the suburbs with two kids and a springer spaniel named Ginny. She wanted to tell her that no matter what happened, Brittany would always be the love of her life, the one.

But instead she had to sum them up in her final words before leaving earth, leaving Brittany.

"I-I... love y-you Britt." She stuttered, tasting the blood that was forming in the back of her mouth.

Brittany yelled something, and tugged on her body and hands. But Santana's hearing and vision blurred, blocking out everything around her, including the dancers words.

All she could feel was Brittany's hands on hers, their fingers threaded, and moisture dampening her skin from the tears the dancer was shedding.

With those final words - Santana Lopez gave into the darkness that was dragging her down. What was the last thought that crossed the Latina's mind? Well, do I really have to tell you? Brittany Susan Pierce.


	19. nineteen

**Harder To Breathe  
>Chapter Nineteen<strong>

_Santana woke startled, the warm prick of the summer sky bounced across her skin, warming up her olive canvas. She was wearing a pair of ripped jean short shorts, a tight white tank top and her hair was lying loosely over her shoulders._

_After the initial wince from the sunrays, she adjusted to the bright sunlight and stared around a bright green field, the blades of grass tickled her ankles as she sat with her bare legs out in front of her. A cool breeze infected the summer air, and it brushed against the nape of her neck._

_She had no idea where she was. The field was completely empty, apart from the odd bird and single tree about twenty metres in front of her. _

_After debating whether to lie back down and hopefully wake up, she heard a familiar giggle that made her skin tingle and stomach flutter._

_Brittany._

_The Latina brushed off her legs, removing any stray grass blades that were stuck to her leg and stood up, doing a 360 to try and find the source of the lovely laughter. _

_A flash of blonde hair caught her attention as Brittany stuck her head round the trunk and bit her bottom lip, smiling at Santana._

_She ran her fingers through her dark locks, before heading towards her beautiful girlfriend. However as she took two steps forward, the dancer didn't seem to be getting any closer - which confused the Latina. _

_She stopped to make sure her legs were working, and took another three steps, quicker than last time. But still, the distance hadn't closed._

_Brittany stepped out from behind the trunk, revealing the beautiful denim summer dress that finished above her knee flowing in the wind. Her gorgeous blonde locks hung in loose curls over the pale skin of her shoulders. _

_Her white teeth gleamed in the sunlight, enhancing the brightness of them and Santana just wanted to step forward and wrap her arms around the dancer's slim waist._

_However she remembered the current dilemma she was in. So in an attempt to be sneaky, she turned as if she wanted to walk backwards, spun round and ran forward about four metres. _

_But it was if the tree and Brittany was moving backwards with her steps - no matter how hard she tried, her feet just couldn't move fast enough, she couldn't reach her destination._

_Santana's face fell, watching the blonde lean seductively against the tree, bite her bottom lip and curl her finger at the Latina, beckoning her forward. It was torture, being able to see the blonde, and wanting to get to her but not being able too. So instead, she decided to reverse the roles._

_"Brittany! Come to me!" Santana yelled, cupping the sides of her mouth to hopefully louden the sound._

_Brittany grinned, and shook her head slowly. The Latina furrowed her eyebrows and started walking forward. Once again, the same problem still occurred. It was like she was in a nightmare, Brittany was only a few metres in front of her and she couldn't touch her, she was there but she wasn't. _

_Santana immediately felt her heart wrench, she wanted to just touch the blonde, but she couldn't - there was some invisible force preventing her._

_So she did the only thing she could do, she ran, and ran forward. Trying to quicken her step to get even the tiniest bit closer. But the dancer just stood leaning against the tree, waving her hand to Santana calling her forth._

_"Come on Santana, come here." Brittany said in a soft tone, the one she usually used to declare her love for the brunette._

_It made her skin tingle, and heart pound furiously - but the current situation was preventing her. Finally, she gave up, panting heavily and feeling hopeless. She sunk onto the blades of grass, slouched into a kneeling position._

_"I can't Britt. I can't." She wept, placing her head in her hands and sobbing quietly._

_Only seconds later, a shadow fell over her crouched body, and she looked up to meet a brilliant pair of blue eyes beaming down at her._

_"Britt?"_

_"I'm here. I told you, I'd always come for you. No matter what."_

_The dancer offered her hand, which Santana gladly took. As soon as their palms connected, and fingers threaded, the Latina's heart started fluttering and she just felt whole Brittany always had that effect on her, whenever they weren't together; it was like a missing puzzle piece. But when the blonde was by her side, touching or not, she just felt complete._

_Santana brought her free hand up, brushing her knuckles against the pale skin of the dancer's cheek who leant into the touch, shutting her eyes and inhaling deeply._

_"I love you Britt. I love you so much it hurts."_

_Brittany grinned, leaning in and nuzzling their noses together in a sweet, eskimo kiss. Santana couldn't help but let out a quiet giggle, and tilting her head to the right as if she was going to kiss the dancer. _

_Her sweet, hot breath blanketed the brunettes face, and intoxicated her brain so it swarmed in what she could only describe as heaven. Their lips were only one of two centimetres away from each other when Brittany spoke;_

_"Promise to never leave me. Promise you'll stay with me forever."_

_Santana nodded, before leaning in and awaiting the luscious sensation she got whenever they kissed._

_"I promise. I'll never leave you. I'll never let you go Britt."_

_Brittany smiled, and tilted her head to allow the kiss. But before they could touch, Santana felt herself being dragged away. She tried to clutch onto the dancers toned arms, but her fingers slipped off as if Brittany was covered in oil. _

_Some type of invisible force was wrapping itself around the Latina waist and tugging backwards, not allowing her to fight due to its force._

_"BRITTANY!" She yelled, reaching her arms forward to try and reach out to the shrinking dancer._

_"You said you'd never leave me. Come back to me Santana! Please! Stay with me!"_

_Santana withered against the force, trying to release herself from its grasp - but all the strength she could summon wasn't even enough to slow it down. The blonde was shrinking further and further into the distance and the Latina couldn't do a thing about it._

_It was a nightmare; it had to be a really fucking surreal nightmare. Santana shook her head, mentally shouting at herself to wake up._

_"Wake up Santana, wake up!"_

_Brittany's words just echoed through her head, she was fighting so hard - and she couldn't even move. She felt so weak, so helpless. Despite the distance, she could still hear Brittany as if her mouth was only inches away from her ear. _

_She could hear her mouth move with the words, her tongue allow them to roll off it, she could hear everything - including the whimpering and sadness obvious in her tone._

_"Please San, stay with me. Stay with me... Please... Don't let go..."_

* * *

><p>"CLEAR!"<p>

A large volt of electricity surged through the Latina's body. Her back arched, launching her body off whatever she was lying on. Her mind was running, racing even, but her eyes were refusing to open.

"1, 2, 3. CLEAR!"

Another volt invaded her body, forcing her body to repeat the previous reaction. Her hand was being clenched tightly by a familiar soft touch, but she couldn't respond by squeezing back. A steady beep became apparent in the room as she attempted to will her body into moving.

_Beep... Beep... Beep._

It was continuous, and Santana knew sooner or later it would annoy the fuck out of her.

"We've got a heartbeat." An unrecognisable voice said, the Latina wanted to open her eyes and see what the hell was going on, but she couldn't.

Two fingers pressed into the side of her neck, then to the inside of her wrist. Her body wanted to flinch away from the unfamiliar touch, but once again, it wasn't allowing her too. "Steady pulse here."

_Get the fuck off me._

"Is she okay? Please, tell me she's alive." A soft voice whispered, cracking with sadness.

"She's stable for now." The deep, unfamiliar voice said.

"Set up an IV and a blood pack just in case. Keep a nurse in here constantly for the next 24 hours to monitor her progression."

_What? What the fuck is going on? Where's Brittany? BRITTANY!_

"SHE'S CRASHING!"

"SAN! NO PLEASE!"

_That voice... Brittany._

But with the last words of her beautiful blonde, her mind clouded and eyes sunk deeper into blackness.

* * *

><p><em>"San?"<em>

_The Latina turned in the dancers embrace to face her, the blondes breath was hot on Santana's face, and it was instinct to move closer to her, nuzzling her neck into the crook of Brittany's shoulder. _

_She knew she was being called, but due to being so sleepy she could barely say anything._

_"Mhmm?"_

_Brittany paused, leaving Santana curious of why she called her name. It wasn't like the dancer at all, to call her name and then not say something. The Latina leant back a bit, leaning on her elbow and looking into bright blue eyes._

_"Baby?"_

_The blonde was biting on her lower lip, and immediately Santana grew nervous._

_"Do you think we're going to be together forever?"_

_The Latina smiled, and felt her heart beat faster, this time due to love and not fear. She leant forward and pressed a kiss to the dancer's nose before pulling back once more._

_"I really do."_

_"Does that mean we're soul mates?"_

_Brittany enquired, stroking down Santana's arm and lacing their fingers together. The Latina furrowed her brows, wondering where these 20 questions were coming from._

_"I do. But B, why are you bringing this up?"_

_The dancer grinned from ear to ear, and laid on her back, pulling the Latina with her so Santana's head was laying on her chest._

_"I was talking to my older sister Chrissy, who's now 28 - and we were talking about her ex-boyfriend, who she was since sophomore year. You met them at Thanksgiving once?"_

_Santana traced imaginary circles around Brittany's belly button with her forefinger, listening to her heart beat in a steady rhythm._

_"And she thought Sam, her boyfriend, was the one. They'd promised to be together forever and they weren't. I just don't want that to happen to us."_

_The Latina could feel the dancers chest hesitate, like she was trying to restrain a sob. Her mind wandered back to the day they met, and even then she could see the cracks forming in their relationship. _

_They didn't look at each other the way her and Brittany did, they didn't touch each other the way they did. She knew that with her and Britt, it was like they were attached to each other with an invisible piece of string, like they were each other's gravity, and couldn't stray too far - otherwise, they'd just feel out of place and... Lost._

_So Santana sat up, lying flat on her stomach and leaning on her forearms next to Brittany, their faces only inches apart and looking deep into each other's eyes._

_"Britt, you can't seriously be comparing us to Chrissy and Sam? We don't have the same relationship they do."_

_Brittany furrowed her eyebrows and bit on her bottom lip nervously whilst she laid her head back to stare at the ceiling. _

_The brunette could tell she was about to cry, so she slid her hand across Brittany's collarbone and around her neck, pulling her on her side so they faced each other._

_"We were meant to be together Britt. After all these years, we've gone through so much together; we can fight anything that's thrown at us. Everyone can see it. Don't you remember how everyone said 'about time' and 'thank God for that' at Senior Prom? Everyone knows we were made for each other. Everyone knows we're soul mates, and if you don't believe that I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."_

_A smile crept across Brittany's beautiful face, lighting up her eyes and baring her brilliantly white teeth._

_"You'd really do that?"_

_Santana slid her hand up Brittany's abs, grazing over her chest before resting on her heart. Her other hand cupped the pale skin on her cheek, stroking her thumb over the silky canvas that covered every inch of her body._

_"I'd do anything for you Britt. This," She punctuated by applying pressure to the quickened heartbeat under her hand, "This is where I belong."_

_She then brought Brittany's hand up to her own heart, leaving it to feel the rapid beat her heart was pounding at. "And this is where you belong. Whether you like it or not, we were made for each other, we are meant to be together forever. And I know for as long as we both exist, I'm going to love you, whether you return the feeling or not."_

_The Latina could barely contain her feelings, she was never known to be one who revealed herself and shared how she felt - because she'd always been a locked safe. _

_That's the way she'd been brought up, and that was her defence mechanism for her heart, and it'd always protected her, so she'd never doubted it._

_But from the moment they'd met, Santana knew Brittany was different. She had an effect on the Latina like she'd never known - it was probably a bit strong to say love at first sight because the Latina hadn't ever believed in that stuff, but it was definitely strong attachment at first sight._

_The dancer had completely changed Santana's life; she was once a cold, bitter, mean bitch, for lack of a better word. But when the blonde came into her life, her life was erratically changed - Brittany made Santana a better person, not only to other people but too herself. She boosted her confidence and knocked down the walls around her heart, allowing her to find her soul mate and to fall in love._

_And the best part about it, was Santana never cared. She didn't mind that Brittany had this effect on her; at first it was tough admitting she was falling in love with a girl because it was everything her family had taught her to be wrong. _

_But once she admitted it, it turned out to be everything she'd ever wanted and more importantly, needed._

_"I love you San. And I'll always return the feeling." Brittany whispered, closing in on the Latina's face._

_Santana's heart smiled and fluttered furiously, "I love you too Britt, and I always will."_

_Those were the last words they shared before their lips met, where they stayed for the entire night, just wrapped up in each other's embrace and sneaking a few kisses in here and there - and somehow, falling in love with each other even more._

* * *

><p>Santana opened her eyes, revealing a bright white room with ugly pale green curtains covering the windows. Her body felt numb, as if she'd been lying in the same position for way too long.<p>

It was a more aggressive upgrade of the feeling she once had when her and Brittany had slept 19 hours straight.

The beep was still echoing through the room, the one that she'd previously recognised. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her head was spinning intensely, so she squeezed them shut and opened them a few times.

She had no idea where she was, her neck stiffened as she tried to examine the unfamiliar room she was in.

Her back ached, and she shuffled into a lumpy mattress, wincing as a shooting pain formed from below her left breast.

As she looked down, the bottom half of her body was covered by an white blanket, but the top half was covered in a loose white gown with green spots on it. She could only recognise it to be a hospital gown.

The Latina's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _Why the fuck am I in hospital?_ But then it all came back to her, Lewis Saunders, Brittany, the apartment, getting shot... Brittany.

"Fuck."

She wiggled her toes, feeling the numb sensation as she forced them to move, allowing pins and needles to set in. The end of her forefinger on her left hand pulled her back as she tried to lift the blanket, revealing a grey clip positioned on the end of it.

She followed the lead that was connected to it, and saw it lead to the place of where that annoying, continuous beep was coming from.

Santana moved her right hand, but flinched at the intense pain that she felt erupt from her shoulder. She wiggled her finger out the clip, letting the beep to fall into a constant beep.

_Fuck I just broke it_; the sound was loud and annoying so she pressed a few buttons positioned on the screen until it stopped.

After exhaling with relief, she lifted the collar of her hospital gown up to reveal a royal blue sling holstering her right arm. _Jesus Christ._

"Miss Lopez?"

Santana whipped her head around, raising her eyebrow at a middle aged woman with short brown hair, standing in pink scrubs.

"Yes?" She croaked, feeling the dry burn in her throat.

She saw a jug of water on the bedside table and leaned over, before yelping at the pain and slumping back onto the bed.

The nurse stepped forward, pushing back slowly on the Latina's unharmed shoulder and fluffed the pillow behind her until she lay back against it.

She poured a glass of water, raising it to the Latina's lips and she sipped tentatively, relishing in the soothing feel of the cold liquid moistening her throat.

"Thanks. Can you raise this thing please? I just woke up, I don't wanna lay back down again." She asked, gesturing with her good arm to the bed.

"Of course. I'm Nurse Reid by the way." The woman said, flashing her identity badge and smiling patronisingly at the Latina.

"Right, yeah. Hi."

Santana slowly leaned up as the mechanics on the bed positioned her into a more seated position.

"Thanks." She said, biting down on her lip as she realised no-one was in the room. No Brittany, no Quinn, no Rachel.

_Shit, Quinn!_ Santana suddenly remembered passing out before even seeing her best friend who'd apparently been drugged and placed in the back room by the psycho.

"Excuse me? Sorry. Um, do you know if..."

Before Santana could finish, a small olive skinned woman entered the room sporting a white blouse and a pair of black jeans.

"Ah Mija."

The Latina clenched her jaw at the sight of her mother.

"Bianca." She responded bluntly, snarling at the name.

"No seas como ese bebé. Estoy aquí para ti." _(Don't be like that baby. I'm here for you now."_

Santana leant back further into the pillows, attempting to move away from her mother as she sat by her bedside.

As it was apparently impossible for her to get up, she scooted as far to the right side of the bed as possible, widening the gap between them. The nurse left after recieving a glare from her mother which just angered Santana more.

"I don't want you here." Santana spat, narrowing her eyes at the woman.

"Well I'm your mother, so I'm going to be here for you."

"Biologically, yes, you are my mother. But apart from our unfortunate sharing of DNA and surnames, you're nothing to me." The Latina hissed, causing her mother to brace the chair dramatically. "You don't have an audience Bianca, no need to be melodramatic."

"Santana no quiero decir eso. Tú eres mi hija, yo soy tu madre. Nos amamos unos a otros." _(Santana you don't mean that. You're my daughter and I'm your mother. We love each other.)_

The Latina had gotten used to slashing people with her vicious words in English, no-one had infuriated her enough yet to allow her native tongue to slip through. However her mother was an exception.

"No. Usted hizo salir de Brittany. Que causó tanto dolor innecesario de nosotros desde hace meses, la madre. Hacerme daño es una cosa, pero perjudicando Bretaña, es algo que no puedo perdonarte." _(No. You made Brittany leave. You caused both of us unnecessary pain for months, mother. Hurting me is one thing, but hurting Brittany, is something I cannot forgive you for.)_

Bianca's eyed welled up, Santana witnessed her mother sob due to her words and felt no remorse. She didn't even feel the littlest bit guilty for allowing her words to affect her mother like this, but considering what she did to the younger Latina - she had no reason to feel it.

"No es adecuado para usted. Ella es una chica. Que es un pecado. Dios mira por encima del hombro, y aborrece a sí mismo por lo que él creó. Que no han sido educados de esta manera, y ella te llevará a la vida de pecado." (S_he isn't right for you. She's a girl. it's a sin. God looks down on you and hates himself for what he created. You were not brought up this way, and she lead you into the life of sin.)_

"I'm not a fucking child anymore. I love her. Jesus fucking Christ, you say God looks down on me for falling in love when there's a bitter, homophobic person like you living in the world? If he thinks that then he can go and fuck himself. You can't possibly believe he created me and Brittany on this world, for us not to fall in love. I love her Bianca. And I'm going to continue loving her for the rest of my life. Britt and I have an unbreakable relationship, an intense one that _no-one_ is ever going be able to effect. However, nuestra relación se termina con nuestra DNA. Yo no te quiero. Ahora vete." (_Our relationship ends with our DNA. I do not love you. Now get out.)_

Santana was suddenly aware by another presence in the room. A tall, black doctor stood at the bottom of her bed, reading through his notes casually.

She wondered how long he'd been there until he turned to her mother, flickering between my eyes and hers.

"Mrs Lopez, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave."

"You can't tell me what to do. She's my daughter." Bianca responded violently, dismissing the doctor with a wave of her hand as she turned back to me.

"Actually, I can. Security." He called, as two suited men walked in and stood behind Santana's mom. "If any visitor of a patient is effecting her health in anyway, I have the right to dismiss them from the hospital, and ban them until the patient has fully recovered. Thank you Franklin and Horden, please escort Mrs Lopez from the building."

Santana watched with a grin as the two large men helped up her mom, who gave her a pleading look before she was almost pushed out the door. The black doctor stood there, holding his folder by his crotch as he watched the exit just as happily.

* * *

><p>"Thank you Doctor. I really appreciate that." Santana murmured, adjusting herself in the bed and once again forgetting the pain forming from her shoulder and stomach area.<p>

"Doctor Delainy, and no problem." The man replied, flipping over a piece of paper on his chart and examining it quickly. "So how are you feeling today Miss Lopez? Any pain in your upper abdomen or shoulder?"

Santana shuffled her shoulder, in order to test the pain level and only felt a slight twinge. "Nothing I can't handle, my shoulder was a bit stiff when I woke up this morning but I think it's loosening up."

Doctor Delainy left out a soft chuckle, and flicked through a few more pages. "Are you aware of your current injuries? Did your mother tell you?"

The Latina's eyes immediately narrowed at the doctor, but it wasn't directed at him - it was just a reaction to the mention of her mother. "No. She decided arguing with me after waking up with two bullet holes in my body was a better idea."

"Apologies Miss Lopez. Are you sure you're in a stable state to handle this information? It's quite overwhelming considering you've just woken up?"

Santana nodded, and looked down at her injured body. "Doc, I think waking up with no idea what's wrong with me is slightly more worrying. Go on, give me the diagnosis."

"Well, you've been in a medically induced coma for around a week, six days to be exact. Unfortunately the bullet wound in your upper right part of your abdomen penetrated your spleen and ruptured it. We managed to get you into surgery in time, and luckily we stopped the internal bleeding that was leaking from your abdominal cavity. However your heart did stop beating for around four minutes, but our team resuscitated you."

Her face fell, _I died?_ _Oh my God._

"The bullet that affected your shoulder somehow managed to miss every major nerve and blood vessel, which you should count yourself incredibly lucky for. Although the shot was clean because it was a through-and-through wound, which left you with no outstanding damage due to the angle of the bullet. Despite being shot, you're actually incredibly lucky Miss Lopez."

The doctor finished, placing Santana's medical file back down into the slot positioned at the end of the bed. The Latina's face was completely void of emotion as she processed the information. _The dreams? Was that heaven?_ She thought to herself.

"You're awake!" A soft voice spoke, as a blonde hopped inside the room.

"Quinn! Oh my god you're alright!" Santana shrieked, wincing at the shooting pain as she sat up too fast.

The blonde giggled, sitting down at the chair beside her bed and leaning forward, taking the Latina's hand in her own.

"Yeah I'm fine. I was in hospital for about two hours after the police and ambulances arrived at Britt's old apartment, only a few roophies or something. But enough about me, how are you? How's your shoulder? How's your boob?"

Santana tried to think back to when the ambulances and cops turned up, but the last thing she remembered was lying in Brittany's arms.

Her mind went blank, completely bypassing the blondes question as she waved her hand frantically in front of the Latina.

"Earth to Santana? You still drugged up?"

The Latina let out a throaty chuckle, pushing on her left hand to hoist herself up a bit more. "I'm fine, well as much as a person who's been shot twice by a fucking psycho can be fine. Nah, only joking. Shoulders being a pain but I can barely feel the _spleen_ injury."

"Haha, whatever. You got shot in the boob, lucky you got those airbags in there really, isn't it?" Quinn teased, winking at the Latina.

"Whatever Fabray, whatever."

"Saw your mom walk out pretty upset. Guessing that was from your doing?"

Santana nodded, clenching her jaw. "Yeah. We had a... _disagreement_ shall we say? Look can we not talk about her right now, apparently stress will affect the healing process."

"Sorry." Quinn replied, looking down at the floor.

Silence invaded the room and Santana watched as the blonde was fiddling with the cuticles on her nails, tugging on her bottom lip nervously.

"What's up with you? Where's Britt?"

Quinn glanced up, still biting her lip whilst showing obvious panic beneath her hazel eyes. The Latina immediately started to panic, thinking something had happened to Brittany.

"Q? What's wrong? Is she okay?"

The blonde once again diverted her gaze to the floor. Santana reached over and tilted her chin up with her left hand, it was a stretch and caused her pain, but the subject was Brittany - so she'd endure it.

"Um, she's fine."

"Quinn - don't lie. Seriously. Remember stress effecting healing? Where is she? Is she hurt? Did Saunders get her? I fucking swear if he's touched her I'm gonna..."

Quinn leaned back against the chair, and smiled at the Latina, causing her to pause in the middle of her sentence.

_What the fuck?_ Santana thought, surprised by the blondes change in expressions.

"You know it's actually quite sweet how much you love her. Wouldn't exactly think you and sweet tied together was possible, but hey. Here we are."

Santana grimaced, grinding her teeth and flaring her nostrils. "Stop fucking around, where is she? Is she fucking hurt or not?"

Quinn immediately detected the infuriated tone in the Latina's raspy voice.

"She's fine. But, she doesn't want to come in and see you, now you're awake."

The brunettes heart skipped a beats, and not in the good way. She felt her heartstrings tighten in the way they had all those months ago.

_She still doesn't want me, how could I be so stupid?_

_It was too good to be true._

Tears welled up on the insides of Santana's eyes, causing her to look away from her best friend and stare out the window, fixating her stare at a squirrel flying from tree to tree.

Her bottom lip quivered, emotional pain overriding the physical one. She wasn't entirely sure how she was going to handle life without Brittany.

Quinn sat up straight, watching the emotional torture evident on Santana's face and immediately pasted her face with an apologetic expression.

"She doesn't want me, does she?" Santana questioned, still not turning to look her best friend in the eye.

Quinn gasped, and reached out to grab the Latina's hand again. "No! Oh God S no! Shit, sorry. She's been by your side ever since you got here. The doctor that was supposed to check her over actually had to come to the room to do it, because she refused to leave. She must've popped out to use the toilet or something when you woke up."

Relief washed over the Latina and she couldn't help but smile. Even the attempt to conceal it by biting her bottom lip failed and her face exploded to a full on grin.

"Really? Then why doesn't she wanna come in?"

The blonde turned her head towards the door and smiled. "Ask her yourself."

Santana followed her stare and witnessed an incredibly nervous, yet stunningly beautiful blonde standing by the door, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt and biting her lip.

Their eyes locked together, and Santana could see fear behind the cerulean orbs and crooked her head to the side slightly.

"I'll leave you two alone." Quinn interrupted, patting Santana on the hand and winking at her, before palming Brittany's forearm and nodding at her.

Santana witnessed the exchange and narrowed her eyes, it was as if they were having a silent conversation the Latina wasn't involved in.

"Bye Q. I'm glad you're alright." Santana said, before she smiled at the blonde.

* * *

><p>"Are you just gonna stand there or you gonna take a seat?" Santana said jokingly.<p>

Brittany smiled sadly, before shuffling into the room and darting her eyes between the chair and side of the bed with indecision.

Santana saw her internal debate and scooted over, patting the bed. The dancer perched on the bed and returned her attention to the hem of her shirt.

"Britt, you know I'm not mad at you right?"

Blue eyes penetrated the Latina's heart, immediately grins to take over both their faces. The dancer threw herself forward, and wrapped her arms around the brunette, before flinching away and remembering the injuries.

"Sorry. I forgot." She said nervously, hiding a smile.

"Fuck them. Hug me." Santana demanded, causing tears to form in the blondes eyes due to happiness. Brittany lay down next to her and tucked her head into the crook of the fire-fighters olive neck.

The blonde's strong arms encircled the brunette's waist and pulled their bodies together. They laid there for a few silent seconds, before Santana noticed the moisture dampening her skin.

"B, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"I was so scared San." Brittany sobbed, "I thought you were dead, that you'd died in my arms."

"Britt, look at me. I'm alive. I'm fine." Santana said reassuringly, rubbing up and down the pale, toned arm in a soothing gesture.

"But you weren't. You di-died S-San."

It was still strange to hear that she'd died, to hear that for those few minutes her soul had completely left the Earth. That she'd let down Brittany, and left her alone in the world.

The thought pierced her brain, and made her think; _what would've happened if I hadn't survived? Why did I survive?_

Her mind raced back to the surreal dreams she encountered, supposedly in the medically induced coma she had. Her heart fluttered when she remembered Brittany calling her name, telling her not to let go.

_It was her. _She saved Santana.

It was so cliché that the last thing she remembered before blacking out, or dying, whichever, was the love of her life. She'd seen her whole life flash before her eyes, her past, her present and possibly her future.

"I know baby. I know. But I'm here now. I'm alive; my heart is beating - because of you."

Brittany sat up, furrowing her brows and narrowing her eyes at the Latina, questioning her statement. "What?"

"I don't know what happened B, but when I blacked out, the last thing I thought about was you."

This elicited a large grin from the blonde who laced their fingers together in response, and Santana sighed heavily, knowing she'd never tire of the effect the blonde had on her heart.

"At first it seemed amazing, but then it like turned into a nightmare. I was trying to get to you and I couldn't - no matter how hard I tried. I felt myself being dragged away from you, and it was the worst thing I think has ever happened to me, and that includes this."

When Santana said _this,_ she gestured to her shoulder covered by the blue sling. Brittany brought her hand up and stroked over it, as if her touch would make the pain go away - which it kind of did.

Just the mere presence of the blonde dulled any pain, no matter how intense.

"You were asking me to stay with you, and saying 'don't let go'. So I fought and fought, and my body responded I guess." She shrugged, running her thumb across the pale skin of Brittany's hand and focusing on the contrast between their intertwined fingers. "You saved me Britt; you brought me back to life."

Brittany hesitated, mentally asking the Latina something which she smiled to in response. The blonde leaned forward, inching their faces together and revelling in each other's sweet, hot breath blanketing their faces.

Brittany sighed heavily as she hovered dangerously close to the Latina's face, shutting the beautiful blue orbs out. The brunette watched her eyes close and mirrored her expression, before marvelling in the feeling of their soft lips meeting in a gentle kiss.

"Yo, Lope-"

Brittany pulled away too soon, leaving the brunettes face in a pout. The blonde giggled and Santana flushed with embarrassment, glaring at the intruder in the room and inhaling deeply.

"Shit, sorry. Um, do you want me to leave?" The male asked awkwardly, twisting his body round several times between the bed and the door.

"I've gotta go sign some papers for Sanny, so I need to go anyway." Brittany beamed, pressing a kiss to the Latina's forehead and swiftly exiting, winking as she did and causing the brunettes knees to transform into jelly.

She would've fallen over if it wasn't for her current lying down position.

"Puckerman, looking good." Santana commented, trying not to focus on the wink Brittany had just given her.

"Thanks, would say the same thing but you kinda look like shit." He joked, taking a few steps forward and tentatively wrapping an arm around Santana's shoulder, giving her a quick hug.

The Latina chuckled, "Fuck off. I'm more badass than you though. I survived a psycho attack that kidnapped my gir- Britt and Quinn, getting shot in the process and shoving the douchebag out a window whilst injured. You just got a couple of burns, pussy."

Puck jabbed Santana in the leg gently, after obviously deciding her shoulder probably wouldn't be the best thing to touch right now, which Santana was grateful for.

"Plus I died. I'm fucking immortal, and a hero. I'm like Batman or Superman." Santana added, revelling in her new found status as an immortal superhero. Even though she didn't actually find the fact that her heart stopped beating even a remotely bit exciting, she knew it would wind up the detective.

"Ha, jog on love. I'm still badass."

They giggled in unison for a couple of minutes, before discussing Puck's actions over the last week, including his own early dismissal from hospital, which the doctors told him not too, after hearing about Saunders and Brittany's old apartment.

"...So yeah. Now I'm here with you."

"Aw, worried about me Puckerman?" Santana teased, before remembering what Saunders had said about Puck's wife. She internally argued with herself, weighing the pros and cons of telling him.

"Puck, look. Sau-"

"Miss Lopez it's time for your physio." A young, redheaded nurse said, walking into the room and standing beside the Latina.

"Physio?"

"For your shoulder. You're going to have to do several sessions to loosen it up."

Santana nodded, and turned to Puck. "Lopez, it's good to see you're alright. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Sure Puckerman, talk later."

* * *

><p>A gruelling and incredibly painful hour later, Santana's arm was back in the sling and she was fidgeting between the scratchy bed linen covering the straw-like mattress.<p>

"You've always been picky about your beds."

Santana's head whipped up to a smiling blonde leaning against the hospital room doorframe.

"I swear to God I'm sleeping on cinderblocks here Britt."

The dancer skipped over to the Latina's bedside, sliding her hand underneath her back and pulling her into a seated position.

"Can you help me get up, I actually can't bare sitting down anymore."

Brittany's eyebrows raised, "But Doctor what's-his-face told you you're not supposed too."

"And since when do I listen to what people say I have to do?"

Santana clutched the side of the bed as the dancers toned arms slipped out from under her, and she threw the sheets off, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"You listen to what I say you have to do." Brittany murmured, focusing on her nail cuticles whilst twiddling her foot.

"But you're different. You're special."

The dancer grinned from ear to ear, before brushing her fingertips over Santana's palms, turning them up and threading their fingers together with her free hand.

The Latina squeezed her hand and shuffled off the bed, pressing her feet to the floor. She flinched as the cold tiles surprised her, and Brittany smiled at her.

"One... Two... Three."

And Santana stood up, clutching onto Brittany's hand.

"Well that was easy. Thought I'd fall over or something." Santana giggled, releasing the dancer's hands and spinning round. "Fucking doctors. Knew I could walk."

"You were only out for six days. Not six months S."

Santana tilted her head to the side and glared dreamingly at the blonde. "Shut up smarty-pants."

Brittany beamed a smile, and Santana knew she loved being called smart. And the best part about it was, the Latina knew Brittany was clever, even if she seemed a bit ditsy every now and then.

"Oh, owww."

The dancer shot forward, clutching the blonde's waist with her hands. "San are you okay?"

"Yeah, just my chest. Hurts a bit. I'll get over it though, only pain." She replied, pointing to her hospital gown which concealed the white bandage around her upper abdomen.

Brittany shook her head. "You don't need to act tough San, you're in hospital, and it's _for_ sick people. Not for people pretending to be sick."

"I'm not sick. I'm damaged. And it's fucking inconvenient."

The dancer tilted her head to the side, and stared at the Latina with puppy dog eyes, whilst leaning her chin on her fist. Santana furrowed her eyebrows and bit her bottom lip.

"What?" She muttered, brushing her face with her fingertips conscious there was something on there that wasn't supposed to be. "Have I got something on my-"

"I love you."

The Latina's heart fluttered furiously, she couldn't help but release the huge grin. But something tugged on her heart, something she'd wanted to ask the blonde for a while - but it'd never been the right opportunity.

She darted up to look at the hopeful stare of Brittany - the Latina knew what the dancer was waiting for, the words were at the tip of her tongue, about to roll off.

Santana gave Brittany a small smile and took a step back, perching on the side of the bed and absentmindedly playing with her fingers.

* * *

><p>"Britt," The brunette whispered, flickering her stare up once to meet piercing blue eyes and then down again, "Was it just a coincidence that we bumped into each other at Puck's club?"<p>

Santana watched dancer hover nervously, shuffling her weight from one leg to the other about seven times in the space of twenty seconds. She saw as the blonde started doing her 'nervous habits' like twiddling with her hair and playing with the hem of her shirt.

The Latina knew how nervous she was, not only because she could read her like a book, but because Santana herself was mirroring the feeling.

"Kinda, but kinda not."

"Kinda?" The brunette repeated.

"It kind of was, but once I knew, it wasn't."

The brunette felt her breath hitch; a large invisible bubble lodged itself in her throat.

"I didn't know if you remembered... but that day-"

"Was our five year anniversary." Santana finished.

Brittany breathed out heavily and then forming a smile.

"Yeah. Well, I was with a couple of my dance studio friends, Tanya and Dina. They dragged me out because I was a complete mess, and I hadn't left the apartment for about a week."

The blonde inhaled quickly, and the Latina watched as she shuffled and attempted to hold in the unshed tears that were glazing her bright blue orbs.

"So what does this have to do with me?"

Santana asked, furrowing her eyebrows, still focusing on her hands as a twinge of guilt hit her. Brittany took a tentative step forward, and crouched down in front of the Latina.

"Dina told asked me where I wanted to go, and she named a couple of places and I knew I didn't want to go to them. But then Tanya told me about a new nightclub, just outside of Manhattan called Elements - which turned out to be Puck's obviously, and something drew me to it. With all the other places I knew I didn't wanna go, but it was like there was an invisible force pulling me to this place. I said I wanted to go there but Dina was like making eyes at Tanya, supposedly subtly but I saw them anyway."

Brittany shifted her weight, and slid her hands up the Latina's legs to meet her hands, clutching around them with her own.

"Being a bit snappy and touchy that day anyway, I asked what was going on. Tanya was obviously uncomfortable and she said that we couldn't go there. Once again I asked why and then Dina joined in and told me that a friend of a friend knew you were going there that night. So I kinda demanded to go, despite much persuading not to by T and D."

Santana smiled lightly, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth and locking eyes with the dancer.

Her heart was pounding, but at the same time her brain was arming with her with questions, slightly fuelling the adrenaline and sparking them alive.

"I guess fate had always had a plan for us, even when we thought it wasn't possible."

"But if you decided to come, knowing I was there, and obviously wanting to see me, then why didn't you contact me before? Why did you think it was alright to approach me now after 8 months Britt?"

The dancer swallowed harshly, and the brunette could see those beautiful blue eyes shade with guilt and hurt.

"I honestly don't know how I got through every single day, looking back on it. It seems like such a blur now, like the days were hazy but every time the night came, I ended up crying my eyes out, curled up in a little ball. I never thought it was alright to put you through it, to hurt you the way I did. All I knew is that I couldn't bear to be away from you any longer. Once I knew where you were, and I knew if I went I would see you, I couldn't fight it. Even if I wanted too, I don't think my heart could allow it."

She took a deep breath in, which Brittany mirrored and her heart swelled slightly. She'd always known Brittany was irresistible, she always knew there was an unbreakable tie between them, but she never knew the dancer was aware.

"I know it wasn't right, I know that not contacting you was really fucking stupid of me, and I can't excuse it by saying how much of a blur those eight months were. I really, _really_ just wanted to call you - but after doing what I did, I didn't think you'd ever want to see me again. I thought you hated me, and I already hated myself enough for the both of us.

When I left that night, I had to convince you that I didn't want you, and I honestly have _no_ idea how I did that. I don't know how you believed me as easily as you did, after all those times I told you how in love with you, and then a few words and you thought I truely didn't want you anymore. It took all the strength I'd ever had to stay away from you, to give you a chance at a real life. And I can't ever completely forgive myself for that, and I know you can't either."

Santana inhaled sharply, reminiscing over the excruciating pain she endured. She shut her eyes, and clenched her jaw, gently rocking her head from side to side.

"But I'm willing to spend the rest of my life trying too, if you'll have me."

The Latina separated one of her hands from the dancers grip, and brought it up to the blonde's face, so she stared into deep blue eyes.

Her heart was beating furiously, thumping against her ribcage loudly as she leant towards the dancer.

"I'll always have you Britt."

Santana whispered into Brittany's lips, before closing the gap and reuniting them in a sweet, romantic kiss. The dancer's hands slid up the Latina's waist, resting on the small of her back and pulling her closer towards their body.

The brunette's legs opened to allow the blonde to slide in between them, resting her elbows on the top of the Latina's thighs.

But the kiss wasn't sexual, it wasn't shooting arousal through their bodies, it was pouring every emotion they felt for each other into it.

Their lips melted against each other, revelling in their combined taste. Santana pulled away, only for her need of oxygen - and gazed into gleaming, cerulean eyes.

"Did you mean what you said in the apartment with Dan?"

"What part?" Brittany questioned, cocking her head to the side. _God she's so adorable._

"That you think I'm," She coughed, blushing at the words that were to come, "That you think I'm the one?"

The dancer brushed the back of her hand against the Latina's cheek, lingering until she cupped her cheek.

"I meant every word."

Seven words were hovering at the end of her tongue, and she couldn't bite them down any longer as the blonde leant forward again.

The Latina pulled back, causing Brittany to furrow her eyebrows in confusion. In an unusually quiet whisper for her, she inhaled and allowed her heart to take over;

"So... where do we go from here?"


	20. twenty  epilogue

**Harder To Breathe:  
>Twenty - Epilogue<strong>

"I'm Detective Noah Puckerman of the 73rd Precinct. I was given Lewis Saunders case three years ago, and unfortunately, he managed to evade me for over two and a half years. On this very day, four months ago on September 17th, he was found lying outside Veniero's cafe on 2nd avenue."

Puck stood tall, straightening out his chest and bellowing his voice to the crowd from behind the podium positioned outside the courthouse.

He was wearing a white shirt, dark blue tie, navy suit pants, his shiny new 'Captain' badge and a police hat covered with an amusing plastic bag to keep the rain off.

Santana was sitting proudly behind him, sporting a dark blue shirt, black tie, dark blue suit pants and blazer, and a similar police hat, without the ridiculous looking 'rain cover'.

She was sitting only metres away, next to the retired Captain Davies, Puck's close friend Constable Craig and a young brunette standing behind them wearing an incredibly short suit skirt, going by the name of 'Tiffany'.

Puck was still talking but Santana wasn't really listening anymore, as Brittany stood at the bottom of the stairs next to Quinn and Rachel, beaming a smile at her.

The Latina completely lost track of where she was until she heard Puck call her name;

"...and if it wasn't for Santana Lopez to my right here, Saunders ruthless attacks wouldn't have stopped. So here I am today, to congratulate this modern day heroine on managing to bring down one of the country's largest criminals and for her new title as Lieutenant Lopez of the New York Police Department."

His voice disappeared and a huge round of applause echoed through the dreary, rainy streets of New York City. Santana felt a large sense of pride as she stood, and took a few steps towards the awaiting Captain who stood clutching a shiny gold badge.

He winked at her, and gave her the badge, shaking her hand before turning to the several photographers standing a few steps down from the podium as they took pictures.

The rain beat loudly against the several black umbrellas covering the two, but Santana didn't really care as her stare was transfixed at the blonde dancer who was pushing her way to the front yelling and cheering.

Santana couldn't help but giggle as the blonde's celebration was completely taking over everyone else's mediocre claps.

Puck released Santana's hand and she turned on her heels, proceeding back to her chair. He turned back to the podium, clutching the sides and speaking into the covered microphone.

"Considering I think we're about to be caught in some type of storm, I thank you all for coming and hope you have a safe journey home. Thank you."

Santana heard all the bustling of the people talking from down the stairs and walking off in various directions when Puck approached her.

"Congratulations Lopez. Had to make it formal and all up there but you better get your punk ass up and hug me."

The Latina giggled and pushed up with her left hand, wincing as the pressure was too much for her right shoulder, which was still sore from the gunshot she suffered half a year ago. She felt his large, muscular arms wrap around her body and squeeze her tightly.

Her spleen injury had completely healed now, only leaving a light scar that could barely be seen - but the rigorous physiotherapy on her shoulder had prolonged her healing, well that's what she thought anyway.

"Thanks. Congrats to you too Puckerman. Or should I say Cap'in?" She joked, mocking him in a pirate accent for his new title.

"Shut up Lopez. Now I'm gonna go talk to Tiffany, 'cause I'm definitely in there."

Santana jabbed him in the stomach with her good arm, "I swear you're gonna die from too much sex one day. Or maybe just an STD."

"Babe, I've had so many STD's I'm fucking immune."

Santana crooked her head to the side, pasting a disgusted expression on her face, "How do you think that's a good thing? Dirty bastard."

"Talkin' of dirty, here comes your girlfriend. Bet she's a di-"

"If you finish that sentence you won't be able to get little Puckerman up, let alone discover any new sexual diseases that you may or may not have contracted from some dirty skank."

"Hey, it was only months ago you were one of my dirty skanks."

He teased, jumping away before Santana could launch towards him. She felt arms slide around her midsection and rest on her stomach as a chin leant on her good shoulder.

"What was that about?" Brittany asked, whispering into the Latina's earlobe.

Santana turned in the Latina's embrace and pulled her arms up to her neck, leaving her own on the dancer's hips. "Nothing baby, nothing."

She leant in and pressed their lips together. Her fingertips dug into the blondes hips and pulled their bodies so they were flushed against one another.

"Come on lovebirds, let's get going. Party at ours!" Quinn yelled from a few steps down, as Rachel leant her head against her wife's shoulder.

Their wedding had been beautiful, it was small but wonderful. Santana was Quinn's best-man/woman and Brittany was Rachel's bridesmaid.

The ceremony was totally cringey, according to Santana, but she'd put on a smile due to Brittany's promise of making up for it that night, and boy did she pull through.

The Latina shook off the thought and laced their fingers together as they descended down the stairs and into Quinn's Range Rover. "There's alcohol right?"

Rachel turned in her seat and glared at the Latina, "What, because it's a Faberry party?"

Santana snorted, "Faberry? Wow you're too cool Rach."

At that moment Quinn hopped into the driver's seat and witnessed the Santana scowl that was directed at her wife;

"Calm it Lieutenant, and before you ask yes, there will be alcohol."

"Perfect." Santana replied, leaning her temple against Brittany's shoulder and inhaling the ever-so familiar scent as the engine revved and they headed towards the married couples new apartment.

* * *

><p>Two hours later Brittany was grinding up against Santana to 'DJ Got Us Falling In Love Again', and Puck couldn't help but stare at the arousing sight.<p>

The Latina caught the pervy glare and shouted 'perv' against the room as she turned the blonde around, crushing there lips together in a sexual, sloppy kiss fuelled by the alcohol consumption.

Only minutes later the brunette was dragging the blonde to the side and pushed her up against the wall, crashing their hipbones together as she assaulted the dancers neck.

"Mhm, God I love you." She muttered, sucking at Brittany's pulse point below her earlobe.

"Not as much as I love you." Brittany replied, sliding her hands up to the Latina's neck and pulling her head up to allow their lips to meet in a slopping kiss.

Santana flicked her tongue against the dancer's lips, demanding entrance which Brittany allowed, and their tongues met in an oral battle for dominance.

They parted for oxygen and Santana fumbled through her pocket, fingering a small, blue, velvet box that was suddenly incredibly heavy.

She felt her heart pound, and her spine tingle with nerves as she opened her mouth to speak, as she glared into the blondes sky blue eyes.

"Britt-"

"Hey girlfriendssss! How's it a-going?" Rachel screamed, slumbering over in her drunken state and wrapping her arm around Brittany's shoulder.

Santana took a step back instinctively and latched their hands together, letting go of the little blue box.

"I'll be right back." The Latina whispered, pressing a kiss to the blondes cheek and walking off to search for her best friend.

When she found Quinn, the blonde was standing behind the large kitchen island with several shot glasses and a tequila bottle. When hazel eyes met dark brown ones, a smile spread across her face;

"San! Tequila shots! Now!"

The Latina shook her head and grinned back, before her feet carried her a few steps forward and perching on the stool opposite the slightly intoxicated blonde. Quinn filled up four of the glasses to the brim and pushed two towards the brunette.

"TEQUILA!"

"TEQUILA!" Santana replied, chugging down one shot, and then another and wincing at the burn that coursed down her throat.

"Look Q, I wanted to ask you something."

"And I wanted to tell you something. But you go first, what's up S?" She asked, pouring another shot, whilst grabbing a lime and tossing it up in the air, catching it skilfully.

"I'm thinking about doing something tonight, and I'm slightly crapping myself over it."

Quinn sliced up the lime into delicate pieces and grabbed a wedge, before grabbing the salt shaker and tipping it into the palm of her hand.

She glanced up to allow the brunette to continue, however the Latina was biting her nip nervously and shifting her weight against the counter.

"I'm gonna ask Britt to marry me."

The blonde nodded nonchalantly, "About time."

Santana's mouth dropped into an 'o' shape, and her eyes widened. "What!"

"Oh c'mon, I found that little blue box in your jacket before Britt left and it was only a matter of time after you got back together that you'd want her to be yours _officially_ forever - even if you don't believe marriage is the right thing to do 'cause apparently it's 'just a piece of paper that takes away your independence'."

Santana narrowed her eyes at Quinn, remembering the time when she kind of tried to deter her best friend from marrying Rachel.

"Yeah, well things change."

Quinn grinned and leant her elbows on the counter. "That girl does wonders for you Santana Lopez."

Santana shrugged and hid the huge smile behind a plain expression. Quinn smiled back and shook her head, filling up another two shots and sliding one to the Latina.

"Stop worrying, you already know her answer."

They both said 'tequila' and downed their shot.

"Damn Q, I know you're a lawyer and you handle heavy liquor but how the fuck do you drink this shit?"

Quinn shrugged, and filled another shot before downing it.

"Me and Rach are gonna try to get pregnant."

Santana choked, feeling the alcohol burn the top of her throat as it lodged there. She fisted her chest several times trying to dislodge the alcohol bubble.

"What! Wow! I mean congratulations! Shit!" The Latina stuttered, spewing out droplets of liquor.

Quinn gave her a curious look, tilting her head to the side. "You're not gonna make any comments?"

"Yeah, well Rach isn't that bad after all."

The blondes eyes went wide and she choked on the shot she was glugging herself. "Rach? Since when did you start using nicknames for my wife?"

"Shut up Fabray. It's probably the liquor talking."

Quinn grinned and downed another shot.

"This _shit_, as you so nicely put it, tastes awesome."

"You taste awesome." Rachel said, sauntering over to the blonde and twisting her round to press a firm kiss to her wife's lips.

"Yeah, I'm getting outta here." Santana said, cringing at the intimate moment the married couple were having.

* * *

><p>She walked back into the living room, and completely lost track as she stared dreamingly at the dancing figure prancing on her own.<p>

Brittany was born to dance, her abs protruded under her tiny black tank top and denim skirt and her body moved with such ease to every single beat of the music.

Blue eyes widened as she turned to see dark brown ones staring at her. She smiled and bit her bottom lip before walking over to the Latina leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed across her chest.

"Hey baby." Santana whispered, wrapping her arms around the dancers trim waist and pulling their bodies together.

"Hey beautiful."

Santana leaned in and nuzzled their noses together, and Brittany smiled back, pecking her on the lips several times before Santana pulled away.

"Britt, can you come outside with me for a sec?"

"Two minutes, need to pee. Meet you on the balcony?" The dancer replied, before pecking Santana on the lips once more and heading further into the apartment towards the bathroom.

The Latina watched her disappear through the various bodies, completely oblivious to Puck walking towards her. She fingered the edge of the blue, velvet box in her pocket and immediately started shaking with nerves.

"You gonna do it tonight?"

Santana whipped her head around with doe-eyes, "Wh-what?"

"Quinn talks."

The Latina's mouth fell open. "What! Who's she told!"

"Calm down Lieutenant, she's only told me, Rachel, Kurt, Tina, Mike, Chris, Tanya, Dina aaaaaaand I think that's it."

"What the fuck! I told her like two minutes ago!"

Puck grinned, "Well technically everyone already knew. It was only a matter of time. But I doubt Britt knows so calm it Kermit."

Santana immediately relaxed, she wasn't really that bothered about everyone knowing - it just gave her more incentive to do it tonight. "Why does everyone keep saying that?

"You're not exactly subtle Lopez."

Santana smiled and glanced back to Dina who was chuckling with Kurt. "So how's it going with you and Dina?"

"We're good. Actually she's the first girl that's ever made me feel the way I do ever since Lils passed away." Puck replied, chewing on his bottom lip and clenching his jaw.

"Well that's good." Santana said.

The brunette was so happy for Puck. He'd been dating the redhead for a couple of months after Britt introduced them at a 'get-better' party she'd thrown after Santana had come out of hospital.

She turned to congratulate him when she caught him staring at her with the 'honeymoon phase' eyes.

"Jheeze you can't even keep your eyes off her can you?"

"Shut up Lopez." Puck joked, smirking at the Latina.

"So? Are you gonna do it tonight?" He asked after a few seconds of silence.

The Latina nodded, not being able to form any words as she fumbled with the box in her right pocket. "Yeah. In about two minutes actually."

Puck punched her lightly in the stomach and she dodged out the way. Her police training had definitely done wonders on her reflexes, and the Captain nodded approvingly.

"Nice dodge Lieutenant. And I would say good luck, but you ain't gonna need it. But if she says no, I'm here for some comforting." He added, winking at the Latina who scowled at her as he walked off.

She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her shaking hands as she suddenly felt incredibly hot. As she walked towards the sliding doors, she gazed around to receive several encouraging and excited smiles from the various people inside.

* * *

><p>The Faberry's apartment really did have an astounding view. It was a penthouse, so you could literally see all of NYC. The lights, the sparkle of the ocean and all the nightlife - just breath-taking.<p>

She leant against the railings, flinching slightly as the cold metal cause goose bumps to form on her forearms as they touch it.

She looked at her watch and tapped her foot nervously against the concrete tiles in rhythm to the beat emanating from the room through the glass doors behind her.

Santana fumbled in her pocket not containing the small blue box, and rustled out a packet of cigarettes. She internally debated whether or not to have one, but finding the packet of chewing gum in her inside pocket was like a sign.

So she sparked one up quickly, inhaling a few quick drags before hearing the door behind her slide open, and flicking it over the side and chucking a piece of spearmint gum in her mouth.

"Hey B." She murmured, sensing the presence of her girlfriend.

"How did you-"

"I don't need to see you to know you're there." Santana answered, repeating the blonde's words from months ago.

She turned around and leant her back against the railings to stare at a beautiful blonde who was cocking her head to the side and staring dreamingly at the Latina.

"I love you." The blonde said, stepping forward and grabbing the brunette's hands.

Santana took a deep breath and twisted so they were facing each other, right side pressed against the railings.

"Britt, I've wanted to talk to you about something for a while now."

The dancers face fell, immediately into a panicked expression.

"No, no, no. It's not bad Britt Britt." Santana replied, sending the blondes feelings. Brittany relaxed immediately, her fingers threading with Santana's and smiling.

"What is it Sanny?"

"You know I love you right?" Santana said, breathing rapidly as she tried to calm her nerves.

"Of course. OH I LOVE THIS SONG!" Britt replied, listening to the slightly muted song coming from the glass doors. "Dance with me S?"

Santana obliged and slipped her arms around the back of Brittany's body, pulling their bodies so they were pressed up against each other with no space between.

The dancer slipped her hands up Santana's olive arms and around her neck, pulling her forehead into the Latina's shoulder.

The Latina's breath hitched in her mouth as she felt the four words lodge themselves in her throat. She leant her temple into Brittany's head, and they both swayed to the music, twirling slowly in a circle.

They were doing this for about four minutes until Santana's brain started overloading with thoughts, sending panic and fear shooting throughout her body.

Her face started becoming all sweaty and she had to physically supress the nerves so they weren't causing her hands to shake.

_Why are you so nervous? Jesus get a grip_.

Santana could feel the dancer smile against her skin as she pressed a kiss to her throat, and listened to her heart pound erratically against her ribcage.

"San, your heart is beating really fast. Like _really _fast."

"Yeah. I know B." Santana gulped heavily, _now or never_, she thought to herself. Taking a final gulp of air and pulling back to stare into adoring ocean blue eyes.

"Look there's something I wanted to a-"

"Yo girls, Q's kicking us out. Rachel's getting a bit out of it." Puck interrupted, causing both the women to whip their heads towards the door where his head was sticking out. Santana narrowed her eyes at the man and he shot her an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"It's cool." Brittany beamed, clutching the Latina's hand. "We were about to head home anyways. But give us a minute, San was about to tell me something."

"Nope." Santana said quickly, allowing the nerves to take over and prevent her from continuing. "It's cool Britt Britt."

"Um, okay. I've gotta go grab my bag, meet me at the front door?" The dancer said, leaning in a kissing the Latina on the lips quickly.

Puck stood awkwardly by the door, making sure he wasn't witnessing the quick exchange.

"Sure baby." Santana replied, forcing a smile and watching the blonde skip off into the apartment.

"Fuckkkkk."

"Lopez why'd you back out? You could've just done it?"

The brunette shook her head, "I know, I'm just so fucking _nervous_."

"_Nervous?_" Puck repeated, chuckling at the word. "Since when did Santana Lopez ever get _nervous?_"

"Fuck off Puckerman." Santana snapped, leaning back against the railings and leaning her head into her palms. "This is a big deal. I want it to be just right."

"Aww, Lopez is gettin' all soppy. How sweet."

"Oh shut up. As if Dina hasn't made you a sap. I saw you acting like her bitch earlier, getting her a drink and staring at her like a lost puppy."

Puck narrowed his eyes and smiled. "Okay, I get your point."

"But seriously, don't wait for the opportune moment - they say a watched pot will never boil."

Santana snorted at the statement, "Who the hell said that?"

"I don't know, it's in a song or something. Anyway my point is if you wait for the perfect moment, it's not gonna come. Just do it when your heart feels it." Puck said, pointing to his chest with his forefinger.

"Wow, you're even more of a sap than I am. Pussy."

"Fuck off Lieutenant."

They both laughed for a while, looking out onto the New York city skyline and witnessing the town beat with the nightlife. It was a Saturday night after all.

"I'll do it. I just need time." Santana said, interrupting the silence.

"Good. But don't make her wait too long, she knows something's up and you know she has a knack of getting things outta people."

The Latina widened her eyes, "Shit what if something says something to her? If they all think I'm doing it tonight! Fuck Puckerman I can't have that!"

"They won't. I'm pretty sure they'll notice when Brittany is sucking on your face or bouncing on the walls."

Santana grinned and punched him in the arm. He winced and rubbed at the injured area. "Damn girl, I was only stating the facts. Plus how in the hell is that a bad thing? You'd be getting yours."

"It's not all about sex Puckerman."

_Whoah, did I, Santana Lopez just say that out loud?_

"True, true."

They both stood in silence. Puckerman's words caught him off guard; it was so _un-Puckerman._ But she stayed silent, knowing he'd probably be punching himself at his own words.

"We gotta go now. Britt's gonna be waiting for me."

"Yeah. Dina's waiting for me too, said I'd only be two minutes."

They both stood up straight and embraced each other. Puck leant down and pressed a kiss into the Latina's hair before pulling her back by her upper arms and staring into her eyes.

"Do it when you're ready." He said, and disappeared into the apartment with just a smile.

Santana followed only minutes after, and headed towards the dancer talking to Rachel. The brunette tilted her head and hoped to God the diva hadn't said anything.

"Hey Rach."

"Heyyy girrrl. Hope you had a goooood time." She replied, winking at the Latina.

Brittany smiled and grabbed the brunettes hand yanking her into the hallway with a wave to Rachel. Quinn stopped the latina abruptly and leant in towards her ear;

"We're routing for you. Good luck S."

Santana smiled weakly, hoping Brittany wasn't gonna ask about the obvious secret.

* * *

><p>They both arrived home and within an hour they were lying in bed. Santana was listening to the quiet and incredibly cute snores escaping the blondes mouth from just below her ear.<p>

Brittany had her arm wrapped in a vice grip around the Latina's waist, and her stomach was pressed against Santana's side. The brunette was lying on her back with the dancers head on her shoulder, feeling her hot breath repeatedly hit her olive neck.

She ran her fingertips up the blonde arm that was laying motionless across the tank top covering her stomach.

The comforter was pulled across them both, covering Santana's lower body, reaching up to her hipbones and most of Brittany's body, finishing mid-ribcage.

Santana was watching the dancers toned arm rise and fall whilst she breathed, and continued glazing her finger pads over the silky, smooth skin covering the limb.

Santana couldn't help but love these moments, where she could just marvel at her beautiful girlfriend, and not feel too creepy.

She could never prevent the sappy smile that covered her face every time she realised how lucky she was that Brittany had chosen her, out of everyone, she'd chosen her. She loved every part of the blonde, and knew she always would.

It still amazed her that even after all these years, Brittany still hadn't gotten fed up of all her crap. She knew she definitely wasn't an easy person to be with, even for ten minutes due to her short fuse and snappy defence mechanism.

But Brittany... Brittany had somehow had voluntarily stuck with her, apart from those icky 8 months which Santana usually preferred to forget, and loved her despite all her flaws.

The Latina's right arm was trapped under Brittany's body, and she ran her fingers through the blonde locks that splayed over her chest, revelling in the scent and soft texture of it.

"I love you. So much." She whispered, twisting her head and pressing a kiss to the blonde head of hair.

Brittany sturred in her sleep and Santana scrunched up her face in hope that she didn't wake her.

The brunette had been parched for about half an hour, but the thought of causing Brittany discomfort just because she was thirsty was enough to keep her anchored to the bed.

She mentally giggled to herself at how ridiculously whipped she was by her girlfriend, even when she wasn't conscious.

So she rested the back of her head deeper into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. It was 1am, on January 18th.

It was this time last year that Brittany left Santana, and she was lying in the same bed, curled up with a pillow that still smelt like the dancer and a blanket she'd given the Latina back in Senior year.

_Jesus, so much can change in a year._ She thought to herself as she studied the nightlights Brittany had insisted putting in the ceiling so it made the ceiling _'look like the night sky' _as Brittany had said.

Santana chuckled lightly to herself. This time last year, the Latina didn't think life was ever going to get better, she didn't even think life would continue after the love of her life walked out on her.

But right now, 12 months later, normality had been restored - and she had her soul mate lying in her arms, and she knew everything was going to be alright, as long as they both lived.

"S-San. I'm thirstyyy." Brittany said sleepily, nuzzling her nose into the Latina's neck and inhaling deeply.

"Okay baby. I'll be right back." She whispered, pressing a kiss to the blondes forehead and manoeuvred herself out from underneath the dancers body.

Brittany curled into the covers at the loss of contact and pouted, which Santana noticed due to the dim moonlight shining through the thin fabric curtains.

"Come back quick. I'm cold." Brittany added, still not bothering to open her eyes.

Santana smiled as she padded along the corridor, wiping the back of her hands against her eyes and opening the fridge. She grabbed two bottles of water, and not being able to wait, chugged down half of hers in about five seconds flat.

She spotted a crate of strawberries inside the fridge and grabbed one, chucking it in her mouth as she kicked the door shut and headed back towards the bedroom.

When she arrived Brittany was basically spread out across the entire width of the double bed, her body was diagonal with her legs sprawled across the bottom of the bed so her feet were dangling off the side.

One arm was tucked under a pillow whilst the other hung off the side of the bed. Santana giggled as she approached the bed, Brittany was just so adorable, and sexy.

_How is that even possible?_ Santana muttered mentally as she perched on the side of the bed.

"Britt Britt, got your water."

The dancer cracked open her eyes slowly, and Santana crooked her head to the side as she watched the blonde wake up in admiration.

Even at 1.30 in the morning, dressed in a simple tank top and duck-printed underwear she looked beautiful.

"What?" Brittany asked, grabbing a bottle of water out Santana's hand and taking a sip. Santana just revealed her brilliantly white teeth in a sappy grin before responding;

"Just wondering how I ever got so lucky."

"Lucky? With what?"

Santana took a sip of her own water before placing it on the side table and grasping one of Brittany's hands. "With you. I'm so lucky that you fell in love with me. I just- I can't even tell you how lucky I feel for that."

Brittany grinned and placed her water next to Santana's before tugging the Latina down next to her, and hovering above her.

The Latina grinned up at the blonde, before running her hands up and down the toned arms of the dancer which were each side of her dark brown locks.

"Nope. You're not the lucky one, I am." Brittany replied, leaning down and nuzzling their noses together.

Just as the blonde pulled away, Santana fisted the dancers thing white tank top and craned her neck so their lips collided together.

Brittany tangled her fingers into dark brown hair and Santana released the t-shirt, grazing her fingertips underneath the fabric and against her ribcage. The dancer shuddered at the contact and grinded their hips together.

Brittany pulled back, and tilted her neck to the side as Santana started kiss down along her jaw and down her neck.

"You taste like strawberries." She whispered, causing the Latina to giggle.

"I got peckish." Santana stated, shrugging as she traced her tongue over the spot she'd just nibbled lightly.

She melted into the dancer and wrapped her arms around her trim waist, pulling them tighter together before capturing Brittany's swollen lips between hers once more.

"I love you, so fucking much." Brittany mumbled into Santana's lips, before taking the Latina's lower tip between her teeth.

Santana chuckled lightly at Brittany cursing, but her heart fluttered because she knew the dancer hated to swear, and when the blondes emotions managed to override her own mouth - her words were serious.

She watched the bright blue eyes beam with love, and she returned their lips together in a sensual, soft kiss.

"I love you too." The Latina responded, amazed at how great Brittany tasted and how it still made her head swim.

Their lips met once more in a romantic kiss, their mouths slanting against each other and tongues flicking against lips seeking entrance.

Once their mouths parted, Brittany traced the curve of Santana's lip with her tongue, and the Latina sighed sending her sweet, hot breath into Brittany's mouth, earning a soft whimper.

It wasn't one of those sexual kisses that caused their hips to buck into each other and wish that they weren't clothed - it was one of those kisses that made your head spin, your heart flutter and stomach flip.

It was one that needed thousands of tea lights illuminating the room, and some soft romantic music to play in the background - just because it poured so many emotions into it.

The dancer pulled away, in need of oxygen and snuggled into the Latina's neck, pressing one last gentle kiss to her neck before sighing heavily. Santana's mind started racing - her heart was yelling at her, almost arguing with her brain and she turned her head into the pillow, pressing a kiss to Brittany's temple.

She closed her eyes and ran her fingertips up and down the blondes arm, just dwelling in how happy she felt at that moment.

She didn't even realise she'd said the words, that'd eaten at her mind for the last couple of weeks, out loud until Brittany's head whipped up, leaving their faces only inches away from each other.

"What?" Brittany asked, her eyes wide. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights and Santana's heart skipped a beat with excitement.

Santana gulped, inhaled heavily and smiled as she exhaled. She released her hand from Brittany's waist, and reached over the side of the bed, into the pocket of her jacket lying on the floor and grasped the little blue box, opening it with a snap of her fingers.

The dancer dropped her hand from Santana's stomach and rolled off so she was on her side staring at the gleaming jewellery sitting inside the tiny box.

"Oh my God." Brittany whispered, looking completely dumbfounded.

The Latina raised her hand and took out the ring, holding with it between her thumb and forefinger and allowed it to hover in front of the dancer.

Brittany brushed her fingers over the diamond, and lingered over Santana's hand.

"Brittany Susan Pierce, will you marry me?"

Brittany pasted a grin so large on her face Santana was actually scared it would tear apart her skin.

"Yes! Yes yes yes yes!" The dancer yelped, bouncing on the mattress, then launching herself onto the brunette, and rolling them both so they fell off the bed. Santana fell first, and her back hit the floor with a light thud as Brittany landed on top of her.

They both started giggle hysterically, and Santana grabbed the blondes right hand from beside her head, and slipped the finger into its rightful place.

"Together forever?" Brittany beamed, pressing a quick kiss to the Latina's lips.

"Together forever." Santana repeated firmly, hugging the dancer tightly.

She twisted her head to watch as Brittany's shined brighter than ever before, and felt the grin stretch her face from ear to ear.

"You alright?" Brittany questioned, pulling their bodies closer together on the hardwood floor.

Santana inhaled deeply, allowing her to feel the release from all the restrictions that'd once tightened around her lungs.

A year ago, to the night, the Latina didn't think she'd ever be able to properly breathe again. Back then she didn't think she was physically capable of ever be able to feel, let alone open her heart again.

But she knew, at the moment with Brittany lying in her arms, their limbs entangled and their fingers laced together - that none of that mattered anymore. She knew that Brittany was the reason it'd become harder for her to breathe, because without her, it was like living without air.

Brittany was something she needed to possess to live, she was a necessity in Santana's life. Because without her, she couldn't function properly, mentally and physically. Brittany was, and always would be Santana's air.

So the brunette squeezed the dancers hand, and turned to press a kiss to her forehead, revelling in this undeniable happiness that she knew was going to last for eternity, and that was something she was definitely ecstatic about.

Blue eyes pierced brown ones and Santana once again breathed in heavily and nodded, pressing a light kiss to her _fiancée's _lips.

"Yeah, I'm perfect. Just perfect."

* * *

><p><strong>Finished!<strong>

**Thank you guys so much, it's truly been amazing. Hope you enjoy my other fics to come! Love you!**


	21. authors note  not a new update!

WARNING! THIS IS NOT A NEW CHAPTER!

APOLOGIES IF I GOT YOUR HOPES UP!

Right, basically, I went on a creative streak and decided to make some artwork for this fic. So I made several and posted them on the link below on !

Please comment if you can and I love you all!

http:/ brittana gleek 01. livejournal . com / 6617 . html

(without the spaces obviously!) ENJOY AND SO MUCH LOVE FOR YOU GUYS!


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